


Tainted Love

by Harlecat



Series: Tainted Love [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batman/Joker in later chapters, Brainwashing, Crossdressing, Forced Crossdressing, Forced identity left, I guess you could call it identity theft?, M/M, Mind Control, Multi, One person turning into another person… is this a thing?, Pretty much all of my ships will leak in, Work In Progress, femJoker… kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 04:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1292122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Harlecat/pseuds/Harlecat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Several months after the events of Death of the Family, the Joker is kidnapped from Arkham Asylum. Bruce has no choice but to go after him, and finds himself facing a curious enemy, familiar and new, and questioning his relationship with the Joker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At Ace

**Author's Note:**

> Ages: In this fic, Damian is 10, Tim 17, Jason 19, Dick 21, Barbara 24, Bruce 34. I've been working on this for awhile, and I've finally decided to start posting. After I finish, I might make some tie-in stories, as well. Thanks! ~Harles

_The Joker._ Batman frowned as the letters lit up, in glowing green, across the screen of the Batcomputer. They'd been there when he'd rolled into the Cave earlier that morning. He'd changed, and headed upstairs to have breakfast with Alfred and the boys before coming back to visit the case he'd been working on. Upon turning on the computer, the words had appeared across the screen. But he couldn't have left them there.

The Joker was in Arkham Asylum. He'd been there since the events of the… dinner. And that's where he still was. There'd been no break-out, no switching-with-an-imposter, nothing. Nothing that he knew of.

He pressed his com-link. "Batman to Nightwing."

"Batman?" Nightwing answered almost immediately.

"I need a favor."

"What kind of favor? The Bruce kind or the Bat kind?"

"The Bat kind."

"What do you need?"

"Stop by Arkham, and duck into the Joker's cell. Make sure he's there, and that it's him."

"Can't you do it?"

Bruce opened, and then closed his mouth. Silence seemed to be his best option, as always.

"Whatever. I'll call you later and tell you what I find." There was a pause. "I don't want to go near him either, Bruce. He hurt the entire circus, remember?"

"I know."

"Yeah. Right."

Batman drew his hand away from the com and stared up at the screen. He should take a sample of the paint. See where it came from, if it was poisonous or not.

He can't be back. Not yet.

It had been months. But even eternity would be too short a time to go without the Joker. If only- if only he would just go away. Without Batman killing him, of course. Without dying. Bruce didn't want that for anyone, not even the monster that was the Joker.

He took out a swab and set about looking at the paint under a microscope. It was completely normal. Non-toxic. It could be purchased anywhere in the country. In short, there was nothing special about it. Impossible to trace- but he tried anyway.

Dick called back a few hours later.

"He's there, alright."

"Thanks."

"But I did a check- most of his goons are out, and-"

"And?"

"Quinn. I can't find her anywhere. Suicide Squad says she quit and Deadshot got dumped."

"Interesting, but Quinn's not with the Joker anymore."

"But if she broke it off with Deadshot-"

"She isn't. You didn't see her after the Joker pulled her into his plans last time- and you didn't hear what she told the police. He chained her to a wall and left her for dead."

"But-"

"I'll keep an eye out for her, but right now we need to focus on the Joker."  
"Why?"

"I think he might've gotten into the Cave."

"He's in Arkham, Bruce, don't-"

Batman didn't hear what he said after that- the alarms went off. There was a thundering of footsteps, and Alfred appeared.

"Master Bruce, it's the Joker-" His eyes fell on the painted computer screen and widened. "Why didn't you ca-"

"What's happened?"  
"Arkham, sir."  
"He broke out?"

"Er- no-" Alfred wrung his hands. "Someone broke in."

After watching the footage for the fifth time, Batman still didn't see any clues. All the guards doubled over, coughing, as smoke flooded the hallways. A hooded figure dashed down the hall- wearing a tuxedo and a red hood, the same the Joker had worn years ago. From the figures build, Bruce would guess it was a man. The Joker scampered back and flattened himself against the wall as the hooded man swung a hammer at the glass. He must've gotten lucky and hit the glass's shattering point, because the entire cell wall buckled in on itself. The Joker ducked and threw his arms over his head to shield himself from the fragments of glass. The man stepped into the cell and grabbed him by the neck, pulling the clown down to his height. The Joker pushed him away and staggered back, and the man squirted his flower in the Joker's face. He collapsed onto the man, who dragged him out of the cell and down the hall.

They disappeared from sight. The tape ended, just like every time, and still Batman had no idea who the man was or why he wanted the Joker.

"And that's all the footage we have?"

Commissioner Gordon nodded. "All the monitors show variations of it. The Joker was the only one he took- he woke up on the ground floor and put up quite a fight." He pushed in another tape, and footage of the Joker struggling against the man, spitting at him and hitting him in the leg. But the man kept a steady grip and, when he tired of the Joker's fight, he stomped on his hands. The Joker howled and, clutching his hands to his chest, kicked weakly at the man, but was yanked out of the building.

"He didn't want to be broken out."  
"That's what it looks like." Gordon lit a cigarette. "Your Red Hood friend- you don't think-"

"It's not his build- He's taller than the man with the Joker, not as lanky."

"If you say so," Gordon agreed uncertainly, sliding off his desk and turning to pick something up. "We got this note yesterday- We had guards there before the break in, but now we have to search Arkham. I'd wondered what you'd think of it…"

Batman took a slip of paper from him. Written in red ink- or perhaps something else- were a few meaningful words:

Ace Chemicals. He turned it over to find one more word: Tomorrow.

"And if you got this note yesterday-"

"That makes it tomorrow."

Batman nodded. "I'll call Red Hood and head down to the chemical plant. Probably has something to do with the break-in… We'll see what we can find out about the kidnapper. You have your men search all of the Joker's known hideouts- we'll have to try and find him."

Batman climbed out the window before Gordon could turn around. His comm beeped. "Call coming in from Nightwing."

"Hey, Bruce?"

"Nightwing."  
"I did some research- Ivy's MIA."

"Fantastic, Dick, but I've got bigger things to worry about. The Joker's been kidnapped."

"Swell."

"Not swell. The kidnapper was wearing a red hood."

"So… Jason's the main suspect?"  
"Different build."  
"But… still?"  
"For now, yes."  
"Oh. Okay- I'll find Jase. See if he's got an alibi.

"You don't have to-"

"Over and out."

"Also-"

Dick was gone.

"Nightwing. Grayson. Dick." Bruce sighed. He'd have to call someone else to tell them where he would be. The boys were in school, so Batgirl would have to do. "Barbara?"

"Bruce?"  
"Joker's been kidnapped. I'm headed to Ace because of a note at the PD."

"'Kay. Good luck." There was a click, and she was gone.

They always seemed to hang up so quickly. He must've taught them well.

He adjusted his cowl, and made one last call. "Alfred, it's me. Do me a favor and clean up the paint."  
"Of course, Master Bruce. I don't suppose I could persuade you to eat just a touch more before you head out?"

"Probably not."

Alfred sighed "Do take care."  
"Don't I always?"  
"If what you do is called taking care, I'm afraid you'll need to try harder."  
Bruce laughed and stepped on the gas.

The kidnapper had a build similar to the Joker's, but was shorter. He was wearing a mask, a red hood. Could be Jason with a padded jacket… could be some sort of Joker fanatic… maybe a victim, out for revenge…

"Call coming in from Red Hood."  
Bruce clicked on. "Jason?"

"Hey, Bats. I just got a call from Dick. What do you mean, I kidnapped the Joker?"  
"I didn't say that."

"No. You said I was a main suspect."

"The kidnapper was wearing a red hood."

"Loads of people wear those. Used to, anyway. Maybe I've re-started the trend."

"Look, Jason, I just-"  
"Whatever, Bruce. I get it."

"What's to get?"

"Something happens to the clown and it's me. It's always me. I'm the bad egg, remember?"

"Jason-"  
"And this is the Joker we're talking about. God forbid someone should get between the two of you."

"Jason-"

"I- Someone's at my door. Gotta go, Bruce…"

"Don't you dare hang up on-"

There was a click.

"-me."

Bruce sighed and stepped on the brakes. He was outside the Ace Chemical Plant. He slipped out of the car and walked straight through the front door. Past the front desk. Into the plant itself. Vats of chemicals rose up from the floor, bubbling and glowing.

The plant closed. There shouldn't be any chemicals. I'll have to call Gordon.

The kidnapper stood on the catwalk. Bruce pulled out his grappling hook and fired. He whizzed up so that he was behind the man. He raised a batarang.

_CRAKT!_

There was wet smacking sound, and Batman sprawled forward. The batarang flew out of his hand and the man turned around, catching it.

"One point to the Joker, zero to the Bat!" His voice was unusually high, and raspy. Almost a screech.

Batman pushed himself up. "You're not-"

"Aw, you're, like, the millionth person to tell me that." He placed a hand on his hip. "You aren't the Joker!" he whined. "My boss doesn't have a face! My boss pays me money! My boss is the Joker!" He laughed, a chilling sound. "I'm a much better Joker than him, though. And I pay them so much more. I pay them in their own life." He giggled. "And look, not even five minutes into the game and you're already on your knees!"

Batman stood up and looked the man up and down. In person, he was lankier. Skinny, even. Shorter than him. Shorter than Jason, too.

There was another crack, and he stumbled forward. Goon behind me. Probably using a crowbar. There was a swooping sound, and he turned and caught the weapon before it could hit him, and yanked it out of the surprised goon's hands.

 _Clown mask. Stocky. Taller than the kidnapper, shorter than me_. He hit him with the crowbar and he fell backwards, eyes closed.

"Now that's the spirit!" The man bounced up and down, clapping. "That's my Bats!"

"Where's the Joker?"

"I'm right here, silly!"

Batman stepped forward and hit the man. Before he could react, he dropped the crowbar and pulled the hood off.

Not a man.

A woman leered at him, green hair shoved out of her face and piled up into two short pigtails. Her skin was a sickly shade of white. Her lips were like blood. Her eyes, though… they were blue. Not the Joker. Not the Joker's daughter. Someone new?

She kicked him between the legs and he fell off of her.

"Expecting something different?" Her voice was softer now, not a scream, but still mocking.

"Where… is… the Joker?"

"He couldn't make it. I'm the, ah, replacement. And I'm permanent." She snatched up the crowbar. "Don't worry, though. I'm planning on getting all the necessary experience. That's why I took the kid!"

"What do you-" Bruce stopped. Jason. Someone's at my door. Gotta go, Bruce. "Jason?"

"Yeah." She cackled. "The bad egg!"

"You… you bugged him." He took a step forward and stumbled, feeling a twist in his stomach. What's wrong with me?

"I bugged you. But to be fair, you were buggin' me. So was he. Which reminds me, I'll need to practice using a crowbar if I wanna bash his head in." She swung at him and he ducked.

"You're sick. Let me help you."

"Honey, if I wanted help, I would never've left Arkham."

Batman paused. "So you've been there before."

"Oh,  _Broooucey_ , you are stupider than you look. What my first edition  _ever_  saw in you, I don't know!"

"So you're insane, then. What is it? Hallucinations?"

She laughed. "Maybe I'm mentally disabled?"

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Mentally disabled!" Batman caught her hand before it could hit him and yanked off her gloves. Her fingertips were burnt off- no telling who she was.

 _Wait a minute._  "You know my name?"

"Course I do. Have you already forgotten? Forgotten what I- or, he, I suppose said?" She yanked her hand back and said, in a low, mocking voice, "I know who you are behind the mask. All of you! All your addresses! I know why Nightwing smells so good!"

"He was bluffing."

"Afraid he wasn't."

"But- that was him-"

"And I've got him, and by default, you. You and all your little friends." She laughed coldly, and swung at him again. "The ones you call your family."

"They  _are_  my family."

"They sure hung up quickly. Bye, Bruce. Over and out. Good luck. Gotta go, someone's at my door." She clucked her tongue. "Poor, blind bat."

"I-" He stopped. His vision was blurring. "Something on the crowbar."

"Right-a-roonie!" Her voice sounded familiar.

"And… you were in the cave. Spray painted my computer. Bugged me. Put something on my gloves?"

"You're correct, sir!"

"On their own, they don't do anything…"

"But the moment they touch, they release a fume. Just enough to get you dizzy. Just enough to slow you down. Ah, teamwork!"

"But you-"

"I was wearing a nice little hood to filter it out. But I also took the liberty of making sure I was immune."

"Why?"

"So I can do this!" She swung the crowbar again catching him in the head. He fell backwards. "Hmm, maybe I should take off your mask first?" She bent down and slipped the cowl off. "Brucey, you are quite the looker! Maybe I won't hit you again. Maybe I'll just do the polite thing and knock you out right away."

Bruce tried to struggle. He was getting dizzier and dizzier. The world started to spin.

"You look a little sick. How 'bout I put you outta your misery?" She reached for his belt. Batman prepared for her to fall off him, shocked by the thousand watts, but she casually pulled out a pellet of knockout gas.

"I'll have to put my hood back on." She stooped to pick it up, then sat back down on his chest.

"You…" he coughed. "You got me… to say disable… and my belt…"

"Turned off. And it's not the only turnoff. That welt the crowbar left on your forehead is disgusting." She jammed her mask back on, and placed a soft hand over his mouth. "Say goodnight, Bats."

He tried holding his breath.


	2. The King Himself

Bruce opened his eyes to see a white tiled ceiling. He was in a small room, a vanity in the corner, a wardrobe by the door.

He rose and glanced at his reflection. Mask was off. He was wearing a hospital gown. His belt was gone. He opened up the wardrobe and saw a pair of black jeans, a white shirt, and dark gray sweater, with a note.

Thought you might  not want to wear paper all day. Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything to the clothes. -J

He changed into the clothes in the wardrobe- after all, they would end up being more protective than the hospital dress, and right now, playing along with this madwoman’s game was his only option.

“Soo, you’re awake.” Bruce turned and saw a speaker sitting on the vanity. “Finally. It’s been ages. I thought you’d died on me.”  
“Where am I?”

“You’re on Mars.”

“Very funny.”

She laughed, wheezing. “It’s in the job description.”

“How long have I been unconscious.”

“Maybe an hour, maybe a day.”

Bruce sat down on the bed. “Care to explain the hospital gown?”  
“I didn’t fancy the clothes you were wearing. So overprotective. I even took the liberty of changing you myself. Now, do you want to know how the game goes?”  
“Fine.”

“Ooh, touchy. I have bird-boy. I have ol’ Mr. J. And I have you. I am in my control room. If you can find the room in under an hour, I’ll let one hostage go. I’m not promising I’ll still be there, but there’ll be a nice little clue to give you a hint on who I’ve let go. And whoever I don’t let go will probably get killed.”

“And if I don’t play along?”

“I kill ‘em both. Either way, it’s fun for me, and devastating for you.”

“But why use the Joker as a hostage?”

She laughed, and the speaker went silent.

First things first. I have to get out of this room.

He rose and turned the knob. The door opened easily. Surprised, he stepped into a hallway.  Doors lined the walls. The corridor curved out of sight, another hallway branching off midway. He could hear faint singing

“A matchbox of our own, a fence of real chain link..."

 _Seems safe. That’s a man singing. Could be Jason or the Joker. Could be a red herring. But it’s all I have to go off of._ He started walking, following the voice.

“In a tract house that we share, somewhere that’s green. He rakes and trims the grass..."

Bruce turned into the other hallway. The voice was getting louder. Closer. He was probably only a few doors away.

“... He loves to mow and weed..."

Bruce turned on his heel. This was the door the voice was coming from.

“I cook like Betty Crocker-”

He opened the door. A kitchen.

The Joker- the real one- turned, a tray in his hands.

“Oh! The King himself! What do you think? Do I look like Donna Reed?”

Bruce took an unintentional step back.

His face had been crudely stitched back on. His hair was longer than when they’d last met and was pulled up in a ponytail. And he was wearing a dress. A short one, not reaching his knees, with an apron over it.

“Want a cookie?” He dropped the tray on the whitewashed counter. “Please, sit.”

He might know his way around the place, Batman told himself. And if not, he’s just as much a prisoner as I am. Bruce forced himself to walk over and took a seat in the stool by the counter.

“I thought you’d show up sooner or later.” He picked a bowl up from the counter and started to stir it. “She said you might.”

“What… what are you wearing?”

“Oh, the dress.” Joker glanced down at himself, and Bruce got a good look at the dress. Red and black. “It was all she’d give me. Said something about now I have to be her. Poor girl’s finally lost it.”

Red and black. He has to be her. Finally lost it.

“It’s Quinn?”

“According to her,” he set the bowl down. “She’s the Joker. Better not let her catch you making the mistake of calling her by her name.” He turned to get eggs out of his fridge.

“Why not?”

Joker pulled out an egg, flashed Batman a manic grin, and cracked it.

“I see.”

“Yep. She shot- one, two, three, ten goons ‘cause of it.”

Bruce winced. “Ouch.”

“Yep.” He mixed in the egg and went to root through his cupboards. “Where did she put the damn vanilla extract?”

Batman glanced at the shelf. "I think it’s by the cinnamon.”

“That’s coconut!” The Joker pulled the bottle out and hurled it across the kitchen. He sank down to the ground. It looked like he he was about to cry. “Why does cooking have to be so hard?”

Bruce stood, stepped over the Joker’s bare legs, and looked in the cabinet. “Found it.”

The Joker sprung up and snatched it out of his hands. “If I knew how difficult this was, I wouldn’t have made her make me food all the time.” He found a teaspoon and carefully measured out the vanilla. Bruce sat back down.

“Your face is re-attached.”

The Joker snorted. “Really? I hadn’t noticed!”

“Why?”

“She did it.”

Batman, as per usual with the clown, had no idea how to react. “That was... nice of her.”

The Joker laughed without feeling. “Yes. I do enjoy being strapped down to a table and having something sewn into me. Although, she was low on anesthetics, and I didn’t really want to have it put back on, so it was just a teensy bit bloody.”

“... Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.” He picked up a bag of chocolate chips and poured them into the bowl.

“What’re you making?”

“Chocolate cookies, oh Wise One.”

“And…” Bruce searched for something to say. “What was that you were singing?”

“Somewhere that’s Green from Little Shop of Horrors.”

Bruce thought back. He distantly recalled Jason- or maybe Tim?- forcing him to sit down and watch something with a similar title. “I think I’ve seen that movie.”

“Oh- not the movie. The actual musical. The movie is an abomination.”

“Why?”

“They tweaked the ending.” The Joker stirred the cookie dough furiously. “The musical is much more realistic. The world is destroyed. Everyone dies.”

“Everyone?”

“Every single person.” He twirled across the kitchen over to the stove. “Hold your hat and hang on to your soul! Something’s coming to eat the world whole! If we fight it we still got a chance!” He grabbed Bruce’s hands and pulled him into a spin. “But whatever they offer you-”

“Let go of me.” Bruce shoved him away. Joker giggled and started to place dough on a new tray. He sat back down and watched him.

“They were wrong.”  
Bruce looked up. “What?”  
“In the song. They don’t got a chance.”

“Why not?”

“The song- it’s called Finale Ultimo.”

“So taken literally, it means ‘final last.’” Bruce paused. “Why are we discussing this?”

“I dunno. You asked." He jerked his head toward the tray of already baked cookies sitting by Batman’s arm. “Have a cookie.”

He glanced at the cookies, then at the Joker.

“Fine.” He put the tray he was working on inside the oven, pulled off his gloves, and stepped over. “I’ll take one first.” He picked up a cookie and took a big bite, chewing slowly. Then he hurried over to the sink and spat it out.

“Taste good?”

The Joker coughed. “I take that back. Do not eat the cookies.” He gagged and spat out a final crumb. “I’m not exactly a natural born chef.”

Bruce nibbled on the edge of one cookie. “Next time, try making sure you don’t swap out the sugar and salt.” He frowned. “What did you dust them with? Poison? Cocaine?”

“Powdered sugar!”

Bruce licked it and made a face. “That was baking soda.”

“Oh.” He looked down at the cookies on the tray. “Are… are you sure?”

“Positive.”

The Joker picked up the tray regarded it carefully before shrugging and emptying it into a trash can. He hurried over to pull the other tray out of the oven and shook the half-baked cookies into the garbage.

“Okay. So being Harley isn’t my destined profession.”

Bruce jumped off his stool. “I’m leaving now. I only have an hour. Do you know where the control room is?”

“Haven’t got a clue. Want some food for the road?”

“No.”

“Um.”

“What?”

The Joker shoved past him. “You didn’t… close the door?”

“Yes, why?”

The Joker grabbed the handle and yanked on it. Nothing happened.

“Let me guess. She locked you in.”

“Don’t worry.” The Joker turned to beam at him. “There’s a simple solution.”

“Really?”

“Of course.” He banged his fists on the door. “Help!”

“That’s not going to work.”

“I’m trapped in here with a lunatic!”

“If anyone’s a lunatic-”

“Yoo-hoo! Harles! Harley! Harley Quinn! Harleen! Harleen Frances Quinzel! Goddammit, you filthy bitch, I command you to open this door-”

“Do you have a hairpin?”

The Joker ripped off his apron and tossed it Batman, backing up to the other side of the kitchen. “Honey, hold my apron. I’m gonna bust the door down.”

“I don’t think-”

The Joker sprinted for the door, rammed into it, and stumbled backword.

“How about a safety pin?”

“Why would there be safety pins in a kitchen?”

“A toothpick?”

The Joker tilted his head. “Hmm. Try the drawer by the sink.” He took his apron back, then crossed over to the stove and got down on his hands and knees, peering under it.

“What’re you doing?”  
“I just remembered something.”

“Which is?”  
“I’m supposed to radio-” he paused and raised his voice. “Harley-” he pulled something out from under the stove. “If you show up.”  
“And are you going to?”

“I dunno. Should probably get the batteries in the radio, anyway.”  
“And why are the batteries under the stove?”  
“They rolled under here when I threw the radio at the fridge.”

“So where’s the radio?”

“Um.”

Bruce pulled a small box out of the drawer he was looking through. A box of matches. He pocketed it. “Bingo.” He pulled out a bundle of toothpicks, held together by a rubber band.

“Can you pick a lock with those?”

“Probably.”

“I found the radio.” The Joker pulled his arm out from under the dishwasher and fumbled to shove the batteries back in. “Should I tell her you’re here?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Okay. Then stay quiet.” The Joker pressed a button on the radio. “Hellooo?”

“What do you want now?” Harley laughed mockingly. “Still can’t find the sugar?”

“You said he would come,” the Joker whined. “I even sang. And he’s not here!”

“Sugar, I didn’t promise you a single thing.”

“I’m bored. I’ve made enough cookies to feed an army.”

Bruce knelt by the door and slipped the toothpick into the lock.

Harley laughed again, her voice growing colder. “Then I guess you’ll just stay locked in there.”

“Huh?”

“I’m sorry. Would you prefer handcuffs and a dungeon?”

Bruce heard a click and pulled the toothpick out. He glanced back at the Joker, who looked like he was realizing something.

“Aha. Clever girl.”

Harley said nothing.

“Got me to walk into my own death trap.” The Joker glanced around the room, his hand over the radio. “Brilliant.”

“It’s a kitchen,” Bruce hissed.

“It’s fatal. All of it. Every inch. Lucky I spat out that cookie.” He glanced over at Bruce, and lowered his voice. “How much did you eat?”

“Not much.”  
“Good. It’s mercury. If you’d had more than a gram of it, you’d be dead.”

“And who’s to say you didn’t know that?”  
“If that’s all you wanted,” Harley said, sounding irritated. “I’ll be on my way now. Lots of things to do. People to kill.”  
“You’re leaving?”

Bruce turned the doorknob and glanced out into the hall.

“Dunno yet.”

Joker set the radio down. “We’ll have to hurry if you want to catch her.”

“We?” Batman demanded, stepping out of the kitchen. The Joker jumped out after him before the door could close.

“Sorry, Bruceykins, but I’m coming too. I’ve got to reclaim my identity.”

“If you wanted your identity, you should’ve kept your face on.”

The Joker laughed. “Good one! Now let’s go.”  
“I’m not taking you. Not in that dress. After what happened last time I saw you, you’re lucky I’m letting you walk out of here.”  
“As opposed to?”

Bruce whirled around and punched him. The Joker staggered backwards.

“Rude.” He wiped a thin trickle of blood from his chin. “You can’t stop me from walking next to you.”

“I can’t. But if you do, you’ll end up in the asylum.”  
“Works for me!” He grabbed Bruce’s arm. “Anything to spend a little bit more time with my king.”  
“I’m not your king,” Bruce said, and started walking. “Let go of me.”

The Joker rested his head on his shoulder and started humming again.

“What song is that?”

“Chicago. The Cell Block Tango.”

“Oh?”  
“He had it coming! He had it coming! He took a flower in his prime! And then he used it! And he abused it! It was a murder, but not a crime!” He slid his arm down Bruce’s and laced their fingers together. “What’s your favorite song, Batsy?”  
“I’m not talking to you. Let go of me.”

“Don’t know that one. Sounds like a rap. Funny- I had you pinned for a classical-type guy. Beethoven and Bach. Or maybe classic rock. You know Tainted Love?”  
“No. Be quiet.”

“Ooh. It’s one of my absolute favorites. Makes me think of you.”

“Just be quiet.”

“Sometimes I feel I’ve got to-”

Bruce shrugged him off.

“Hey! I wanna hold your hand!”

“No hand holding.”

“Yes hand holding!”

“No!”

A soft chuckle stopped their arguing. “Well. Well, well, well.” The Joker and Batman turned to see a man at the end of the hallway, wearing a clown mask. He raised a radio to his mouth. “Oh boss? The lovebirds are out. Your orders?”

The Joker gaped. “Deryl?”

“Aw, shucks. Let’s let the cute couple go. I’ll send Harley after them to kiss them goodnight.”

“I thought I was Harley!” The Joker grabbed Bruce’s arm- tightly. “Deryl, what the hell-”

“You’re cutting off my circulation!” he hissed.

The man in the clown mask spun on his heel and walked away. Bruce turned and started walking faster. He could hear the Joker grinding his teeth.

“Seems like there’s only one hallway,” he muttered. “I came from that way. Probably wouldn’t put her office right by the place I woke up…”

The Joker stroked his cheek. “You’re so smart. No wonder you’re the king.”  
Bruce pushed his hand away. “Quiet. Unless she knew I’d think that…”

“Oh, hell.” The Joker spun and dragged Bruce by the wrist back the way they came. “We’re going back to the death trap.”  
“Wait- I want to try some of these doors.” He opened one, only to be pulled back before he could fall into darkness. He glanced at the Joker, who was staring at him expectantly. “Thanks.”

“Anything for royalty.” The Joker smiled again, his voice growing quieter. “Anything for my Bat.” He walked away, heel-to-toe. Bruce followed him.

“The radio’s in the kitchen. I can trace her signal.”

“And if not, we can make out.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Your confidence is sexy.”

“The only thing I’m confident in is the fact that we will not be making out.”

“There aren’t cameras… we could do more…”

“No.”


	3. Strained at Best (Crazy People)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the drop-right-into-it sort of beginnings. When I was writing this I did it all without chapter breaks, then went back through and tried to divide it up, so I don’t really set up for the new chapter… Or finish the old one… I truly am sorr

“Fine, then.” The Joker pulled open the door to the kitchen.

“What time did I get here?” Bruce glanced at the clock on the stove.

“‘Bout twenty minutes ago.”

“I’ll have to hurry. I only have an hour.”

“To do what… Find her?”

“Yes.”

“And why do you need to do this?”

“She has… two hostages.” Bruce decided not to mention the Joker was one of them.

“Interesting. And she’ll kill them if you don’t find her?”

“Probably.”

“Lemme guess. One of the other hostages is your Red Hood pal.”

“How do you know?”

“She dragged him right past the door.”

Batman set the radio down. “Which way?”

Joker pointed. “Who’s the other hostage?”

“If I can find him, I can save them both.” Bruce picked up the radio and raced for the door. “Come on.”

The Joker tilted his head, and then his face lit up. “Oh! I get it! I’m the other one!”

Bruce pretended he hadn’t heard him, and tossed in the radio. “Put this in your apron or something.”

“She took me… to get to you… and not for some twisted revenge…”

“Don’t tell me you’re happy about it.”

The smile slipped off the Joker’s face. “You really  _do_  care.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Batsy!” he shouted, grabbing his arm again and letting the door close behind them. He leaned in towards him and Bruce shoved him away.

_“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”_

The Joker froze, and he glanced behind him.

“That might just be her replacement Harley.”

A woman appeared at the end of the hallway. Her hair was pulled up into pigtails, half was brilliant red, the other half a rotten shade of gray, falling out in clumps. Black was smudged around her eyes, and white paint was dripping off of her skin, pooling at her feet. She was wearing Harley’s old outfit, which looked too small on her.

With the makeup and hair dye, it took Bruce a moment to recognize her.

“... Ivy?”

She moaned and started to walk toward him. He glanced her up and down. Joker nudged him.

“The pigtails.”

Bruce glanced at the hair ties. They were thick ribbons, tied into tight bows.

“Not just hair ties?” Batman guessed.

“Heard her talking about Jervis. She’s getting closer.” He nodded at Ivy.

“We can take her.”

The Joker grinned. “We. Don’t you love that word?” His eyes focused on something behind him. “B-”

Bruce felt a shoulder on his arm. He was spun around, and found himself lip-to-lip with Ivy. What was he doing again?

Two hands grabbed him and pulled him away. A voice: “No kissing my man!”

It sounded like Ivy was snarling. The two hands pushed him down to the ground

_No… let me up… I want to stay with her…_

There was a yelp, and the Joker came into focus.

“Bruce? Batsy?”

He groaned and pushed the Joker out of the way. “Where- where-”

“Ivy’s gone.”

“No! I want to-”

“Bruciebat, she was wearing her special lipstick. You’re hypnotized.”

“Let me up!” Bruce threw him out of the way and started to stumble down the hall, looking for Ivy.

The Joker grabbed him by the shoulders and twirled him around. He glanced up at the sky. “God, I know our relationship is strained at best, and I really shouldn’t be asking you for any favors, but now doesn’t seem like the best time to go up there or down there- probably down there, if you know what I mean- but please don’t let Batman murder me right now. I don’t think it’s a good idea for him to do that just yet. Also, when you think about it, I’m doing him a huge favor, so, yeah… Right now is not my ideal moment of dying. Thanks. Talk to you later.”

“Let go of me,” Batman shouted, pushing to get past him. He had to get to Ivy. He wanted another kiss. He needed one.

“Don’t kill me for what I’m about to do.” The Joker pulled him closer.

“Wha-”

The Joker fell into him, drawing Batman’s lips up to his. Bruce let his mouth part and the Joker slipped inside. Anything- anything to get rid of the hole in his chest, anything to replace Ivy, to drive the loneliness she’d left out of his head-  _yes, yes, yes-_ _  
_

He jerked away and punched the Joker. He staggered backwards and fell onto the ground.

“Don’t you touch me.”

The Joker kept looking into his eyes. His pupils were wide. They’d expanded, even larger than normal. And then his eyes slid down to a point just below Batman’s waist.

“Ah, but you liked that, Batsy.”

Hell no.

“That’s- the pheromones talking.”

_“Suuuuure.”_

Bruce turned angrily, disregarding the Joker. “We’ve got to follow Ivy.”

“Sure that ain’t  the pheromones talking?”

“No. She ran away- probably to Harley.”

“Ahhhhh.” The Joker hurried to catch up with him. “She went the other way.”

Bruce turned and found himself facing the Joker. “Move, please.” The Joker grabbed his arm and held fast, keeping pace with Batman. He didn’t protest- side by side was better than mouth to mouth.

He caught sight of Ivy around the corner, beating against a door. Bruce pulled her out of the way and opened it. “Locked.”  
The Joker reached into his apron. “Care for a toothpick?”

“Thanks.” He got down on his knees and started to pick the lock. He finished and opened the door. He stepped inside and reached for a light switch. A lone light bulb flickered on and the room brightened, revealing a lone table in the center of the room. A small piece of paper rested in the center. He picked it up, and read:

_Congrats to the Big Bad Bat. I’m afraid I had to leave in a bit of a hurry- I have more important matters to attend to. Tell Harles to water the plants, feed the hyenas, and so on. Enjoy your clown. Sorry I could only get you an older model. I’m afraid the bad egg is staying with me._

_No._

He spun around. The Joker was locked in battle with Ivy.

_No._

He sprinted across the room and pushed his fist through the window. He turned to the Joker.

“Come on.”

The Joker looked up and grinned. Ivy grabbed his face and pulled it into hers.

_No._

Bruce grabbed the Joker’s arm and pulled him through the window. They landed on the ground- the caves, below Gotham. He glanced behind him and saw a long, narrow building held up by shafts of wood. Several boxes stuck out from the walls- the “rooms,” he supposed.

“Car!” he shouted, as loud as he could. They might be close to the Cave, and with luck, the voice recognition key would catch his voice.

The Joker pulled against him. “Wanna go- gotta get- another-”

Ivy had kissed him.

Bruce rolled his heavens toward the roof of the tunnel. “I can’t believe I’m doing this for you.”

“Ivy-”

He pulled the Joker’s face toward him and kissed him, soft and quick, then pulled away.

“I think I hear the car.”

The Joker giggled and dashed after him into the tunnel. There was the screeching of wheels and the Batmobile skidded around a corner. Bruce came to a halt.

"Stop."

The car skidded to a standstill. Bruce dropped into the front seat and leaned out the window.

"Wait here."

"Fat chance, Brucey-bat." The Joker skipped around and into the passenger seat. "My ex, my fight."

Bruce stepped on the gas, and the car went flying through the tunnels. The Joker was pushed back into his seat.

“There seatbelts in here?”

“What?” He spun the wheel around and turned around a dark corner. “Can’t be too far from the Cave, if it heard me… funny, I don’t know this part… just have to get to somewhere I recognize…”

“Do you always talk to yourself?” the Joker shouted, tumbling into the side of the car.

Batman turned again. “Think I’ve been- no. Water- might be the falls… but that area’s flooding… not safe…”

“Because, only crazy people do that. And my momma always said not to get into a car with crazy people.” The Joker bounced up in his chair, his head hitting the roof. He rubbed it, looking irritated. “And by the way, you really need some seatbelts.”

Bruce reached over and turned on the GPS. “Map out the cave systems,” he instructed it.

“You aren’t talking to me, right? I’m not supposed to make a map?”

“Shut up.” Bruce peered at the screen that appeared on the GPS, and swore.

“What?”

“We’re near the part you flooded.”

“ _I_  didn’t flood anything.”

“I told you too shut up.” Bruce slammed on the brakes and backed up, running into a wall before he turned.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?!” The Joker screamed, holding onto his seat. “I thought you said you knew these caves?!”

“Not this part.” Bruce turned left. “I think we’re close to the Cave.” His comm went off.

“What’s that beeping sound?”

_“Call coming in from Nightwing.”_

“My comm. Answer call.”

“Hey, Bruce?”

“I’m in the middle of something, so make it quick.”

“I can’t find Jason anywhere, and I just got this distress signal from his place-”

“I know. Quinn has him. Don’t worry- I’m on it.”

“What do you mean Quinn has him?”

“I mean she’s going to kill him. Don’t worry, I’m on it.”

“When did this happen?!”

“Not really sure- I’ve been unconscious awhile.” He glanced over at the Joker. “You know how long?”

“Probably an hour or two.”

“Um, Bruce…”

“Yes?”

“Is there someone… in the car with you?”

“Yes,” Batman and the Joker said at the same time.

“And… that would be… ?”

“Me!” the Joker said. Bruce turned another corner, and he shrieked as he was pushed once again into the window. “You did that on purpose!”

“Just be quiet or the next one will be.”

“Br- um, Batman- why is he-”

“Quinn had him, he… helped me out-”

“That’s an understatement.”

“And I wasn’t about to just let him go…”

“Right- well-”

“I’m helping you get your bird back, so be nice to me.” the Joker pressed himself back in his chair before he could hit his head on the dashboard. “Where did you learn to drive?!”

“Speaking of that, Bruce, I think I should-”

“I told you, don’t worry-”

“You’re on it, I know, I heard you the last fifty times. Right, sure. I’m meeting you in the Cave, like it or not.”

“Since you’ll be there, get a new pair of clothes for the Joker.”

The Joker seemed to light up. “Please do that.”

“... Why?”

“His current outfit is… distracting.”

The Joker burst into laughter.

“What’s he wearing? Spandex?”

“Just get him some new clothes,” Bruce snapped. “And tell Alfred we have a guest.”

“Will do.” Dick clicked off.

“Does he always hang up that quickly?” the Joker asked.

Bruce turned into another tunnel, and relaxed. “We’re almost there.”

“Does that mean your driving will get better?”

“It will once I push you out of the car.”

The Joker giggled. “Sor _ry_. Is my outfit distracting?”

Bruce turned a corner and sighed with relief. “This tunnel leads to the Cave.”

“Fantastic. What’s more, I’ve come to a decision. I am going to buy you seatbelts. You know what those are, right? Seatbelts? They keep you from dying? Especially useful when the driver is a  _maniac_.”

Bruce swerved into another tunnel and slowed down. “We’re there.”

“We’re still in a tunnel, hon.” The Joker jerked backward. “In fact, if you don’t slow down, we’re going to hit the other end-”

“That’s the door.”

“And you’re sure of this?”

The end of the tunnel opened up. Bruce sped through and pulled the car to a stop.

“Pretty sure.”


	4. Not to Interfere (Goddamn it, Harley!)

The Joker pushed the door open, fell out on his hands and knees, and vomited. Bruce dropped out and left to find a Batsuit.

The Joker pushed himself up and wiped off his mouth. “I am never getting into that metal death trap ever again.”  
Bruce didn’t reply.

The Joker stood up, and looked around. "So, this is your Cave. I won't lie. I was expecting gloomie- oh my god!" The Joker rushed over to one of the outfits on display. "This outfit! I want it!"

Bruce sighed. "You can dress up as Robin on your own time."

"What's this one? I've never seen it before."

"That's Stephanie's."

"Whose?"

"Never mind." Bruce pulled off his sweater, then his shirt, and pulled on the torso section of his Batsuit.

“You’re not planning on changing pants in front of me, are-” the Joker was cut off by the door to the cave opening. Nightwing entered, and threw a pile of clothes at the Joker.

“Put these on before I can convert that dress to memory. You can change behind the computer.”

“Can't I wear Stephanie's outfit?”

Nightwing raised an eyebrow. "Please. Feel free to wear the dead girl's clothes."

"Really?"

"No. Put those on."

The Joker clutched at the bundle and hurried behind the Batcomputer. When he was out of sight, Bruce changed into the lower half of his Batsuit and snapped on his belt.

“You going to put your cowl on?” Dick asked.

“No point in that. He knows who I am.”

“But the cowl strikes fear into the heart of-”

“I can tell when you’re mocking me.” Bruce sat down in front of the Batcomputer.

“What’re you doing now?” Nightwing leaned against the side of the computer and adjusted his mask.

“Research.”

Dick rolled his eyes. “Of course you are. Let me know when your essay’s done.”

“What should I do with these?” the Joker asked, emerging from behind the computer in slacks that didn’t reach his ankle and a flannel that didn’t quite cover his wrists.

“I’d say burn it,” Nightwing raised an eyebrow, “but you can just leave it back there for now.”

The Joker threw the clothes into a heap behind the computer. “Brucey, do you want the radio?”

“Yes.” The Joker tossed it to him, and Bruce immediately started fiddling with it.

“I have no idea what you’re doing.” He turned to Nightwing. “What’s he doing?”

“What happened to your face?”

The Joker reached up and touched one of the strings holding his face in place. “Oh yeah, that. Funny story-”

“I need to check something. Hold this.” Bruce handed the radio back to the Joker and pulled a map up on his computer.

“Should I call her?”

“If you want.”

“But should I?”

“I don’t care.”

“But-”

Dick snatched the radio out of his hands and pressed the call button. “I’m calling her.”

“You took my radio-”

“Shut up.” Dick held the radio up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Hell-ooo? What do you want now?”

“Is this Harley?”

“No!” Harley sounded furious.

“Then who is it?”

“This is the fucking Joker.”

Dick lowered the radio. “What the hell is she-”

“She’s decided she’s going to become me.” The Joker crossed his arms. “No, really, it’s fine. Just take the radio without asking, I don’t care, it’s not as if it’s mine-”

"Actually," Bruce said. "It's technically hers." He set his hand down next his keyboard and frowned. "D- Nightwing. There's no coffee."

The Joker snorted. "Dnightwing."

“Look, Quinn,” Dick held the radio up to his mouth. “I’m going to make this simple. Tell me where Red Hood is, and I won’t hurt you too badly. Just hand him over and you won’t get anys scars.”

There was silence for a moment, and Nightwing clearly thought he’d convinced her. Then, Harley laughed loudly.

“Aw, that’s cute! It really is! Wittle Dickybird misses his wittle friend!” She cackled. “I think he misses you too, sweetie! It’s hard to tell through all the screaming, but I think he may have said your name once or twice… or maybe he was cursing you… hmmm…”

“Look, lady, I gave you a chance, and now there’s gonna be hell to pay when you- hello?” He held out the radio. “She hung up.”

The Joker took the radio and put it in his pocket. “For future reference, this is mine.”

“Whatever. Did she say why she took Jason?”

“She’s planning on killing him.” Bruce typed something into the Batcomputer. “Something about gaining experience as the Joker. Now, where is my coffee?"

Dick pointed at the Joker. “So what you’re saying is that this is all his fault.”

“You can hardly blame me for the girl’s mental problems.”

“Actually, I can.” Dick said. “See, a long time ago, she was a doctor at Arkham, but then-”

“Okay, that mental problem is my fault, but when it comes down to it, she was just a ticking bomb. I just kind of gave her a nudge.”

“Your nudging aside," Bruce said. "We've got a real problem on our hands.”

“He's a real problem," Dick said. "Quinn's just crazy."

"You'll change your mind about that," Joker said quietly.

Dick didn't seem to hear him. “Quinn’s re-enacting the crime. So, this is easy. Where’d you kill him?”

“Some random warehouse in Iraq, I think. I’m quite dangerous.”

“Is she headed to Iraq then?” Dick asked Bruce.

“I’ll call-”

There was a sudden, loud pounding above. The Joker glanced up, looking wary.

“Is someone attacking you?”

Batman glanced at the computer screen. “It’s three thirty.”

Nightwing sighed. “Should I go tell them to be quiet?”

“Don’t you do that every day? Has it worked yet?”

“No, but if he comes up it might be more effective. Which reminds me.” Dick pulled something out of his belt and tossed it to the Joker. “Alfred rigged this up for you.”

The Joker held it up in front of him. It looked like a thin sheet of plastic with rubber bands attached to it. “What is it? Some sort of murder weapon?”

“Close. A shower mask.”

The Joker squinted for a moment, then lit up with delight. “Really?”

“Yeah. He says that the next time you kidnap him, he expects your hair to be washed.”

A yell echoed from upstairs. _“First one to the game room gets to play Loki!”_ A few moments later, the shouts were louder.

_“Burn in hell, Asgardian scum!”_

_“Take that, you motherfu-”_

_“I’m going to kill your dad!”_

_“I’m going to kill your entire shitty species-”_

_“Take that! I’m stealing your hammer!”_

_“Fool! Only Thor can touch the hammer!”_

_“It’s name is Mjolnir!”_

_“Who cares what it’s named? You still can’t touch it!"_

The Joker shrugged. “Do you have a shower I can use?”

Bruce sighed. “Nightwing, get him into the shower, grab me some coffee, and tell the boys that if I hear one more sound-”

_“Take that! And that! And that! Woohoo!”_

_“You cheated! You totally, completely, utterly cheated-”_

_“All hail Thor, King of Asgard!”_

_“You fucking piece of shit, Drake-”_

_“Kiss my Asgardian ass!”_

_“Restart! Restart! Hurry up you stupid-”_

Dick grabbed the Joker’s arm and pulled him up the staircase. “This way.”

“Are they playing _Thor: King of_ -”

“Just come on.”

Bruce found his comm and called Barbara. “It’s me.”

“I figured. Find anything at Ace?”

“I got kidnapped.”

“Oh. Where are you now?”

“The Cave. I need you here- stat.”

“I’ll be over soon.”

“And one other thing- the Joker’s here.”

There was a chilly silence from Barbara. “What?”

“Until further notice, he’s working with us.”

“What?!”

“It’s our only option.”

“I seriously doubt that!”

“Just… be civil.”

“Me? He’s the-”

“Be moderately civil. He’s been… alright, I suppose…”

“What the actual-”

“Look, I don’t want him here anymore than you do-”

“He’s actually there? In the Cave?”

“Well… technically he’s in the Manor right now…”

“I thought you said he was bluffing? That he didn’t know who we were?”

“He knows who I am.”

“Fine. I’ll be there soon.”

“And one other thing. Jason’s been kidnapped.”

“I’ll be there soon.”

The line went dead. Bruce called several members of Batman Incorporated, and soon had a team set up in Iran, centered around the warehouse where Jason had first been killed. Harley didn’t seem to be in the area, but it couldn’t hurt. He made one more call.

Tim and Damian came down with Dick a few moments after he hung up, in uniform. “I explained everything,” Nightwing said, before sitting down at a different computer station.

“Why is the Joker taking a shower in your bathroom?” Tim asked, looking pained.

Bruce sighed. “I wasn’t about to leave him wandering around in the caves. And he was just as much Quinn’s prisoner as me. She would’ve killed him if- did you say my bathroom?”

Tim snorted. “Yeah, and from the way he was singing, I don’t think he’s coming out of there anytime soon.”

“How long till we go after Quinn?” Damian demanded.

“Probably as soon as Batgirl gets here. Dick, did you get me coffee?"

"No."

"Damn."

He called up a few contacts in Gotham, and tracked down every empty warehouse in the area. He refused to miss a single detail- when fighting someone as unpredictable as Quinn, he couldn’t afford to look over anything. Eventually the Joker came down into the Cave, looking refreshed and abnormally clean.

Damian wrinkled his nose. “What’s that smell?”

“Brucey’s body wash.”

“It’s horrible.”

“It was all he had. I don’t see you complaining about the way he smells.”

“On you, it smells like a strawberries that were spiked with narcotics and left out in the rain.”

“Aw. Thank you.”

Nightwing exhaled loudly. The Joker started to hum “Jingle Bells” softly. Dick and Tim both left when the humming got louder, Dick muttering about how they weren’t getting anything done.

Several moments later, they reappeared.

“When should Batgirl have been here?”

“I don’t know.”

“I called her. She didn’t answer.”

“We called Gordon, too.” Tim added. “She’s MIA.”

Bruce swore and stood up. “Send me the info on this computer, then go upstairs with Robin.”

“What?” Tim frowned. “No.”

“Just go upstairs.”

The Joker coughed politely. “Not to interfere with you parenting, but the last time you left them alone they got kidnapped.”

“By you.”

“And she’s trying to be me.”

“Besides,” Batman went on. “They’re not going to be alone. Alfred will be with them.”

“I kidnapped Alfred too though.”

“And I called Selina.”

“What?” Damian folded his arms over his chest. “No. I refuse to be babysat.”

“Just go play videogames or something.” Dick turned and stalked over to the Batmobile. “We need to to find Jason and Babs.”

“Father, I refuse to be babysat. By a cat, no less.”

“Just… be good,” he said, and followed Dick into the car. The Joker crossed over and tapped on the window.

“Excuse me, but there are only two seats, and I refuse to ride in your car again.”

Bruce pressed a button and the back doors opened. “Nightwing, you drive.” He got and swapped places with Dick, waved goodbye to the skulking boys, and got into the passenger seat.

Dick stepped on the gas and zoomed out of the Cave. The Joker sighed with relief.

“He’s a much better driver than you.” The Joker glanced around. “How long have you had back seats?”

“Shut up,” Dick said. “I can’t concentrate when you’re talking.”

“Oh?”

“Everytime you open your mouth, I feel like strangling you. So,” Dick turned the wheel. “What’s the plan?”

“We’re checking out the abandoned warehouses.”

“That’ll take too long!”

“It’s our only lead.”

“So,” the Joker said. “Just making sure that we’re not going to track my radio?”

Batman swore and turned around. “Give me that.”

“Say please.”

“ _Please_.” He grabbed it and opened up the back. “If we can just get a lead on her…”

“Now might be a bad time to mention this, but I distinctly remember her mentioning the docks.”

Dick braked, turned the car around, and started to head for the docks. “Any warehouses near there?”

“Only ten or so.” Bruce finished up with the radio. “Got it. She is near the docks.”

“See?” the Joker stretched out in the backseat. “I’m not completely useless.”

"Take a left here," Batman instructed, and Dick turned. He parked by a warehouse.

Bruce turned to the Joker. "Wait in the car."

"But-"

"In the car." He jumped out of the Batmobile and Dick followed him. The warehouse door was, of course, locked. But that didn't stop them.

The warehouse was completely empty.

"Think she dropped the radio here and left?"

Bruce frowned at another door across the room. "Do warehouses normally have two entrances?"

"Sometimes."

They crossed over to the other door and and opened it, revealing an elevator. Bruce stepped in, and Dick followed them. There was only one button, so he pressed it. The elevator doors closed. It felt like they were going down.

There were more rooms below the warehouse. Dick muttered something about Cadmus and opened a door to check behind it.

"Hello?" Bruce called.

There was a scuffling sound, and a figure appeared in one of the doorways. She limped towards them.

Dick closed the door and grinned. "Hey, Babs!" Bruce looked her up and down. She seemed fine. Wasn't in uniform, but was safe.

She crossed her arms and scowled at him. "Took you boys long enough."

"Where's Jason?"

Barbara nodded towards another room. "Quinn thought he'd be easier to kill. Bet she's still having trouble. And she had some… fun with him for little bit, but he got his strength back when she came to mess with me. And he was pretty pissed."

"What happened to your foot?"

She glanced down at her left foot. "Oh, yeah. She shot it."

Bruce, who'd been getting out his medical kit, froze. "What?!"

"Yeah. Idiot. You know about her whole re-living crimes thing? Well, she shot me in the foot instead of the spine. I'll be able recover pretty soon, and since I went into shock, it barely even hurts, and I can walk just fine."

Dick looked at Barbara, and then the door Jason was behind. She sighed.

"Go ahead."

He hurried over and opened it, then closed it and turned around. He was laughing.

"Oh my god. She's going to die."

Bruce tossed him the medical kit and went to look into the room.

They were both pretty beaten up, Jason bruised badly, and Harley's suit caked in blood. Her only weapon was a crowbar. Jason, on the other hand, had a gun. It looked like he'd shot, missed, and grazed one of her legs, and had hit her over the head. Harley swung the bar and Jason blocked it.

"I hate crowbars!" he snarled, and ripped it out of her hands. He spotted Bruce, and waved. Harley took one look at him and fled.

Jason grinned at Bruce, then collapsed. He rushed over and helped him up, and out of the room.

Dick beamed when he saw Jason, and rose to let him lean against him. Bruce examined the bandages around Barbara's foot, and steadied her as she walked down the hall. They rode up the elevator in near-silence, Dick and Jason having a quiet conversation.

Barbara opened the Batmonile door and snarled at the Joker.

"Hey, honey."

"I'm not sitting next to him."

Jason clenched his fists. "I'm not sitting next to him either."

"Hey Joker! Wow, I love your new face! You smell like a rose garden! Thanks for helping to save me! That was super cool of you!" He slouched down in his seat, muttering darkly.

Jason and Barbara glanced at each other. He dropped down next to the Joker.

"Don't try anything or I'll shoot you."

The Joker rolled his eyes and made room for Jason. Bruce drove to Gotham General and dropped Barbara off. The Joker waved goodbye.

Jason edged away from him.

"So," the Joker said happily. "Where to next?"

"Arkham. We're dropping you off."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. You're a convicted murderer."

The Joker pouted, slumping backward in his chair. “You’re no fun.”

Dick kept driving. Bruce turned around and handed a tracking device to Jason. “Put this on him.”

“What is it? A _bomb_?!”

“No.”

Jason scowled. _“You’re no fun.”_

“It’s a tracking device. If Quinn pays a visit to Arkham again, we’ll find her, instead of the other way around.”

“Are you stalking me?” the Joker demanded, shrinking away from Jason.

“Shut up and let me put this tracker on you!” Jason shoved it into the Joker’s hair.

“The metal detectors won’t sense it. Just don’t get it wet.”

"I'm not taking this unless I get to track you." He ripped the tracking device out.

"It's your choice. And your funeral."

"I know."

Jason squinted at the Joker. “Why are you so clean?”  



	5. Next to You

The alarms went off again that evening. Bruce staggered downstairs. He'd been hoping for a night off after his patrol showed no suspicious activity. But it just wasn't a proper night until a murderer broke out prison.

Jason opened his door and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"

"Eleven thirty."

"Seriously?" Jason yawned and stepped out of his room. "Should I go get Dick?"

"I'm fine on my own."

"I'll go get Dick." Jason walked down the hall, opening the door to Dick's room. He didn't emerge.

Bruce headed down into the Cave and changed into his Batsuit. Someone, and he had a pretty good idea who, had set off several bombs filled with Joker toxin. Apparently, the antidote he had given the police wasn't working. Must be a new batch.

He started up the Batmobile. He could spend a few hours developing an antitoxin, but how long would that take? How many people would die.

He probably has the cure.

Bruce groaned. He didn't want to take the Joker out of Arkham.

Well, he kind of did, but he would probably try something. Something really, really stupid. Like kissing him.

Dick and Jason appeared, in uniform. Dick's hair was sticking up in all directions. "Let's go kick Quinn's ass."

"We have to stop by Arkham first."

Jason moaned. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. He might have the antidote to the toxin."

"It's Quinn's toxin!"

"But I'm willing to bet he developed it."

Dick glanced between them, and threw his hands into the air. "Let's just get in the car."

Bruce dropped into the Batmobile. "Look, you two can come, or you can stay. Your choice."

Jason kicked the floor. "I'm taking my motorcycle. Dick, you coming?"

"Yep."

Bruce sighed. "Keep your comms on. You'll have to meet us."

"Fine." Jason hopped onto his motorcycle and Dick climbed on behind him. "Hold on tight, pretty boy."

Dick frowned at him. Jason took off. Bruce stepped on the gas and the Batmobile flew out of the Cave.

He found the Joker in his cell at Arkham, scratching something into the floor.

The Joker glanced up. "Hey, beautiful."

"You have to come with me."

He licked his lips and stood. "Where to?"

"Quinn set off some Joker toxin."

"That no good bi-"

"Shut up! Look, I need to know if you have an antidote."

"I might."

"Where?"

"My apartment."

"Where is it?"

"How about I show you?"

"How about you give me an address?"

"How about no?"

"How about yes?"

"How about I'm sick of this game so let's just go?"

Batman sighed. "Come on."

Without setting off any alarms, they left Arkham, and the Joker got into the Batmobile.

"You're not driving, are you?"

"Look, when I'm not hurtling through pitch black caves, my driving is pretty good."

"Tell that to all the cars you've run over."

Bruce ignored him and called Dick. It sounded like he was yelling.

"Bruce!"

"We're going to the Joker's apartment. What's your address?"

The Joker told him, and Bruce repeated it to Dick. "Did you get that?"

"Jason, I get it! You can do a wheelie!  _Now fucking slow_ \- what? Oh, yeah."

Jason shouted something. Bruce hung up.

"They're meeting us at your apartment."

"I'd figured."

Jason and Dick were waiting outside, Jason slouched against the wall, Dick looking very on-edge, running his hands through his hair.

The Joker led them into the building and into the elevator. He took a key out from behind a plant in the hallway, and unlocked the door.

Jason burst into laughter.

The Joker squeaked and slammed the door shut. "Maybe you should just wait out here." He opened the door again and tried to enter without letting any of them in, but Dick yanked it open.

The Joker glanced around the room nervously, as if deciding what he should hide first. There was a pile of dirty clothes next to his bed, which he kicked under his bed, before apparently changing his mind and dumping them on top of his blankets. He then grabbed a piece of paper that had been tacked to his wall- Bruce thought he saw the words "Batman's Girlfriends: Hit List".

"You really don't need to see that," the Joker said hastily.

Jason picked something up off of the Joker's cluttered desk. "Why do you have a Batman action figure?"

The Joker winced. "Don't touch that, it's a limited- but it's not mine, I mean, it's-"

Dick smiled. "Come on, Jase. Why would he need a Batman action figure?" The Joker looked relieved.

"He's got this Batman doll!"

Jason howled with laughter. Dick grinned, looking proud of himself.

"You know what?" the Joker snapped. "I'm going into my bathroom to get the stuff and when I come out you two had better be quiet!"

Jason and Dick poked around a bit more, discovering a Batman pillowcase, another doll, and several posters. Jason pulled out his phone and started taking photos. Bruce headed over to the Joker's filing cabinets, and pulled a drawer open. It was empty.

The Joker came out, glared at them, and showed them a vial. "This is the antidote."

"Wow," Jason said. "A bunch of green goo in a bottle. I've never seen that before."

"Kid, this green goo could save or destroy a li- is that empty?" The Joker rushed over to the filing cabinets. "No! Where'd it go? Where'd it go?"

"Were there papers in there?"

"Yes there were papers in their! All my files were in here! I had all these photos of you! I spent a month stalking you! There were pictures of you sleeping!"

"That's… a little creepy…"

_"Fucking Harley-"_

Batman snatched the vial out of his hand and put it in his belt. "We're taking this to the police, and you back to Arkham."

Dick's comm beeped. "Hello? Oh, hey Babs. Oh, nothing."

Jason frowned.

"No. They don't know you're ignoring them. But I guess I did just say that in front of them. That's great! Uh huh? Uh huh. What? No way! Seriously?"

Jason stomped out of the room, and when Batman, the Joker, and Dick reached the ground floor, his motorcycle was gone.

"He's driving," the Joker said automatically, pointing at Dick, who was laughing at something Barbara had said.

"No he isn't."

"Aw, now? Seriously? Fine. Wanna hang out afterwards?"

"Ew," the Joker gagged. "They're going on a date. Gross."

"Okay. Bye." There was a pause. "Yeah, I'm still here. Okay. Bye." Dick clicked off. "Where'd Jason go?"

The Joker giggled and got in the car. Almost immediately, Bruce's comm started beeping. "Call coming in from Red Robin."

"Bruce!"

"Shouldn't you be in school?"

"... No?"

"It's Wednesday, isn't it?"

"Yeah. We have school off."

"Why?"

"... Because tomorrow's Thanksgiving?"

"It is?!"

"Yeah! Look, that's not why I called. I think there's someone in the Cave."

"What?!"

"Robin went to check it out."

"He  _what_?!"

"I told him not to! But he went anyway! He never listens to me!"

Bruce swore and turned the car around. "We're coming."

"We?"

"I'm with Nightwing and the Joker."

_"Again?!"_

"Um, Bruce? Someone needs to take the antidote to the police."

"I'll do it!" the Joker volunteered. "Jim and me are buddies!"

Bruce gave Nightwing the vial, and pulled over. "Take this to the GCPD."

"Sure thing."

"And don't get kidnapped."

He rolled his eyes. "I'll try not to." Dick opened the door, got out, and took off.

"Can I sit next to you?" the Joker asked immediately.

"No." Bruce stepped on the gas and headed for Wayne Manor. "You're lucky I'm not taking you to Arkham."

"Yeah, I know, can I sit next to you?"

"No."

In the Cave, Tim was waiting for Bruce. Damian was sitting by the Batcomputer, holding an ice pack to his cheek.

"She's upstairs," Tim said.

"She?"

"Ivy."

The Joker grinned. "You mean you left her in the tunnels? Nice."

"I had more important things to do."

"Like what?"

"Never mind."

"I told Drake not to bring her into our house," Damian said, "But he did it anyway. Pennyworth's with her."

"We got the hair ties off of her," Tim went on. "And it's my house too."

"No it isn't." Damian scowled.

Tim sighed with annoyance. "It is. I live here now."

"That doesn't mean I have to accept it."

Tim rolled his eyes, and turned to Bruce. "She's asleep right now, in one of the guest rooms. Practically collapsed the moment we got the ties off."

Bruce nodded at the Joker. "Watch him," he instructed the boys, and headed for the elevator.

Alfred met him at the bottom of the staircase. "You're in uniform, Master Bruce."

"Didn't have time to change."

"Miss Isley is in the smallest guest room- she preferred it to the others. I wasn't sure whether she would prefer greens or meat, so I just made her some tea."

"That was kind of you."

"I live to serve."

Bruce smiled at Alfred, and opened the door to the smallest guest room. Ivy was curled up on the bed, looking very small. It was hard to believe she was capable of killing anyone when she was like this.

She rolled over, showing the side of scraggly gray hair. Harley must having tried to dye it, and she reacted to the chemicals in it. I guess even Ivy isn't immune to everything.

Bruce sat down in the chair by her bed and touched her shoulder. Her eyes fluttered open.

_Oh my God._

Even with her hair, and her smudged makeup, she was beautiful.

He squeezed his eyes shut, cleared his head, and when he opened them again, Ivy was staring at him, her face filled with fury.

She pushed herself up. "Where am I?" she demanded. "What-" she'd tried to lunge for him, but fell down onto the bed. "What's going on?"

"I need to you to tell me the last thing you remember."

"Why?"

"You're mind's been under control with some of the Hatter's technology, for at least a day. I need you to tell me what the last thing you remember is."

"Where am I?"

"Wayne Manor."

"Wayne Manor?"

"I'm… friends with the owner."

"Batman, friends with Bruce Wayne?" Ivy snorted, and rubbed her temples, and then apparently realized that half of her hair had been destroyed. "What happened to my hair?" she shrieked.

"I don't know. I think Quinn tried to dye it, and you reacted to the chemicals."

"But it'll grow back, right? Right?"

"You haven't been in charge of your head for over a day and you're worried about your hair?!"

"I happen to be very attached to my hair. But I suppose there are some more important matters to deal with." Ivy glared at him, and pushed herself down into the blankets. "The last thing I remember is getting a call from Harley. She asked me to meet her at a bar in one of the shadier neighborhoods. So I went."

"You weren't worried at all?"

"It was Harley."

Bruce nodded. "Which bar was it?"

"I dunno."

Alfred appeared in the doorway. "Is she awake?"

"She's awake. Ivy, this is Alfred, Bruce Wayne's butler. Don't kill him."  
"Okay?"

Alfred set his tray down next to Ivy. "One lump or two?"

"Two," she said after a moment, looking completely mystified. Bruce gave her a reassuring smile and left the guest room, returning to the Cave.


	6. The Closet

In the Cave, Tim was having a heated argument with the Joker, and Damian was still sitting on the counter by the Batcomputer, kicking his feet back and forth.

"She's awake," Bruce told them.

Tim crossed his arms. "King of the Skies is way better than God of Thunder."

"No it isn't. Thor uses the hammer too much. Besides, the entire plotline revolves around Loki."

"That's because Loki kicks ass."

"He's a greasy haired wimp. And he has too many powers."

"Just in case anyone's interested," Damian said sullenly. "I tracked Quinn down."

"He's the god of magic. Of course he has too many powers!"

"He's supposed to be the god of mischief."

"And magic! Besides, this isn't mythology. It's Marvel."

"And Marvel sucks. Dark Horse make the only good comics."

"No. Marvel. Is. The. Best!"

"I also busted a gang of smugglers," Damian went on. "But hey! Let's talk about comics!"

"Marvel's completely unrealistic. I mean, spider-sense? Come on! And what sort of villain is Green Goblin?"

"Yeah," Tim's voice was dripping with sarcasm. "What sort of criminal dresses in purple and green and rushed around obsessing over the  _same_  hero? Lame!"

The Joker stared daggers at him.

"Right," Batman sad, after a heated silence. "Well. Who wants to take him back to Arkham?"

"I'll drive him," Damian volunteered instantly.

"Not you. You're ten."

"I know how to drive. Besides, Drake's license got revoked."

Tim stuck out his jaw. "It didn't get revoked. I just… partied a little hard one night and then I had some tickets I hadn't paid-"

"Your license got revoked," Damian snapped. "You drove the Batmobile into a streetlight. Deal with it."

"Oh no," the Joker said flatly. "Who will drive me now…?"

Bruce sighed and headed over to the Batmobile. "Get in the car."

"I'm cool with hanging out here."

"Get in the car."

"Fi-ine." the Joker stomped over and dropped into the passenger seat of the Batmobile. The alarms started to sound.

Honestly, Bruce wondered, will I ever get a break?

Damian turned around and started typing on the Batcomputer. "Wanna guess who it is?"

"Quinn?"

"She's all over the place. Lots of gas. Police are on it. Looks like she left you a message."

"What-"

Damian clicked on something and an image filled the screen. An invitation was painted onto the side of the building.

_What: A Dinner Party!_

_Where: The Tunnels_

_When: Tomorrow Night_

_Please wear your Face and Mask! No Flame Retardants Allowed! Must be a Bat or a Bird to attend!_

Bruce scowled at the Joker.

"What?"

"She's copying  _your_  crimes. Where do you think she got the idea for a dinner party?"

"Are you blaming me?"

"To be fair," Damian said. "It is your fault."

"Red Robin, go warn Alfred and don't do anything stupid. Robin, get in the car."

Damian smirked at Tim. "Yeah, don't do anything stupid." He then turned to the Joker. "You're in my seat."

The Joker rolled his eyes and got out of the Batmobile, and moved to the back. "Sorry, I didn't know that it was reserved."

"Well, it is." Damian sat down. Bruce got into the driver's seat.

"Seatbelts," he and the Joker both told Damian. Batman and Robin turned to glare at him.

The Joker raised an eyebrow. "Safety first, I always say." There was a short silence. "You know. When I'm not killing people."

Bruce stepped on the gas and sped out of the Batcave. "First stop is Arkham."

The Joker groaned and sprawled out in the backseat. "I don't wanna go."

"You're going."

"Make me."

"You're going."

"I try to complain, you're boring. I try to create sexual tension, you're boring."

"There's a ten year old in the car," Damian said. "Let's not make him puke."

The Joker stuck his tongue out at him. Damian's comm started to beep, and he answered it. "What do you want, Todd?" he said sourly. "Oh. He's found Quinn."

"Where?"

"Are we turning around?" the Joker asked immediately.

"She's at the warehouse again. Just robbed a bank. He says he's going to kick her ass."

"Language," the Joker chided.

"He also says- watch it, Todd.  _How dare you insult the-"_

"People wonder why he's my favorite," the Joker yawned. "I suppose I'll have to start referring to this conversation."

_"I am the son of Batman! My mother is the Daughter of the Demon! I was raised by the League of Assassins!"_

"That's enough, Robin."

"How  _dare_  you defy me! _I am the future!"_

"Robin..."

_"I will end you!"_

Bruce reached over and yanked him comm away. He could hear Jason laughing.

"I was talking on that!" Damian screamed.

"He's so cute!" the Joker squealed. "You're such an adorable little bird!"

"Don't speak to me," Damian humphed, and sank down in his chair. "You don't speak to me."

"I know, I know. You're royalty."

"I practically am," Damian said, then flipped him off.

The Joker rolled his eyes at Batman, who couldn't help but smile a little bit. At the warehouse, Bruce hopped out of the car. The Joker and Damian both jumped out and followed him.

"Wait in the car."

"As if."

"Fat chance."

"I said-"

"We heard you," they both answered. Damian turned to frown at the Joker. Bruce sighed in annoyance.

"Robin, wait in the car."

"Why do I have to wait for you but not him?"

"Because Quinn already has Jason, and I'm not letting her get you too. If something happens, lock yourself in the Batmobile and call Nightwing."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"If we're worried about people getting kidnapped," the Joker began. "Should I, ah, wait in the car as well?"

"I have no issue with you getting kidnapped." He would prefer it didn't happen, but Harley couldn't use the Joker as leverage like she could Damian.

"Jerk."

Batman walked into the warehouse, the Joker at his heels. They rode the elevator down in silence.

It was clear that something was different this time. The hallway below the warehouse was oddly quiet.

"Harley?" the Joker called.

There was a giggle, and she emerged from the door at the end of the hallway. "You're so forgetful. And look! You brought the Bat along! Though I suppose he must have brought you… Funny, this reminds me of a-"

Batman furrowed his brow. "Jason-"

"Oh, right, right. Yeah. He came back to me, such a darling boy… And, funny thing, I thought he might! So I was ready!" She turned and marched back into the room. Bruce followed her, the Joker beside him.

"See, I had some of my l _ov_ ely employees-"

"Who you stole from me."

"-waiting, and I also remembered to frisk him, and handcuff him. And I didn't let up on the beating, so it was a lot easier to keep him down than last time. But I decided to do the nice thing, and he's still alive, though it looks like he needs some medical attention reeeeally badly. You can thank me for my mercy in the form of a trade."

"What sort of trade?"

"Preferably the person kind." She sighed wistfully. "It's the most tragic thing. I seem to have misplaced my Harley!"

"I think I see where this is going."

Harley beamed at him and pushed open the door. "In here." She flicked on the lights to reveal two of her goons, holding a barely conscious Jason between him. He was bruised and bleeding. "Look at him! Isn't he cute when he's dying?"

Batman reached for his belt.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Batsy. There are a lot more goonies coming out into the ground floor, just waiting for you, and both of these guys are about to pull guns out of their pockets." She nodded to them, and they did. "And look! They're pointing them at his head."

"Bruce…" Jason mumbled.

"So, we have qu- _ite_  the predicament! I mean, you can try and throw some batarangs at the guns and maybe stop them from going through his head, on the off chance that your little knife is faster than my really fast bullets, or you can give me that guy," she pointed at the Joker, "Or you can leave and I might not kill little red riding hood, or you could always attack me… Hey! He could even throw that cliche he's pulled out of his pocket and possibly stop someone!"

Bruce glanced at the Joker, who was halfway through pulling his trademark Joker card out of his pocket. He put it away.

"May I have a word with our Dark Knight for a moment?" he asked.

"Of course." She smiled knowingly, and gestured to the door. "Take all the time you need. I trust that you'll make the right decision, Bruceybat." The Joker grabbed him by the arm and pulled him through the door into the empty hallway, and then through another door, which led them into a closet.

"Is the closet really necessary?"

"I don't want her listening in on us. So, I was thinking-"

"We're not leaving."

The Joker looked surprised. "Um, no. I'm going with her."

"No you're not."

"I am! I'll be fine. She might not kill me. She'll probably just have sex with me and then try to kill me, and then I'll end up nearly killing her, and come away scott-free."

"That's the worst idea I've ever heard. And I'm on the Justice League. With Flash and Plastic Man."

"Sweetums, if she wanted me dead, I'd be dead. But since I'm the one valiantly risking my life, I'm demanding a trade too."

He narrowed his eyes. "What do you want?"  
The Joker pushed closer to Batman. "Not much."

Why do I get the feeling he's lying?

The Joker leaned closer to Batman, and very lightly, pressed his lips against his. He froze instantly. The Joker hung his hands over his shoulders and kissed him again, and this time Bruce answered him.

"Batman," the Joker kept pulling away to say. "Batman. Batman. Batman." Finally, to Bruce's near-disappointment, he jerked back and crossed his arms. "Look, I'm being an honorable person here. Least you could do is kiss me a bit harder."

Bruce finally moved, placing his hands over the Joker's hips, and their lips met again and again.

The Joker spoke, pausing every few words to get another kiss in, and it sounded like he was gasping for breath. "Batman- I have a- confession- to make-"

"Mm."

"I- am  _madly_ \- in  _love_  with you-"

"Right."

"You don't- believe me- but it's-  _true_ \- and you- have to admit- I'm a  _pretty_  good kisser- considering I cut my lips off awhile back-"

"You're making this weird."

"We're- in a- closet-"

"That was your idea."

"I didn't- expect you- to keep kissing me-"

"Mm."

"I'm- so- in love with you-"

"You're insane."

"Yes. I am. I love you. You're- my- king."

_This man is going to be the death of me._

"If I- live through this- I'm going to- give up crime-"

"What's the catch?"

"You have- to let me- kiss you- again-"

"That's not going to happen."

"Can't- blame a guy- for trying- Bruce-"

Bruce's name had never sounded so… so right. God dammit. He wanted to kiss the Joker again and he was going to get himself killed.

Just remember what he did to Jason. Remember what he did to Barbara. Remember what he did to you.

Just remember. It's the one thing you have that he doesn't. Remember what he did. Remember.

I shouldn't be doing this.

He kissed the Joker even harder, and in return, he got more hungry. The Joker worried his lower lip and bit down, drawing blood.

_Slow down._

It was like a dance; Batman softened and the Joker did, and as the Joker got fiercer, Bruce did.

_Why am I leading him on like this? I might as well have pushed him into that vat of chemicals. I might as well have broken his mind. Do I really need to break his heart, too?_

The Joker slid down, pulling Bruce with him, and sat on his lap, cupping his face in his hands.

"Batman," he slurred. "Batman. Batman. Batman."

The door opened.

Bruce stood up instantly, the Joker dropping off of him and hitting the floor with a faint  _ow_. Like a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar, he faced Dick Grayson.

Nightwing's face flew through a variety of expressions- disgust, shock, and horror- before settling into what looked like pure, wicked delight.

"Hey," he said. "I think you two need to come out of the closet."

Bruce opened his mouth the protest, only to be interrupted by the Joker, who'd rolled over onto his stomach and was shrieking with laughter.

"Out of the closet!" he howled. "That's- that's a good one- hehehehe-"

Nightwing pressed his comm. "What? Selina? Yes, I have a very interesting photo you might like to see."

"Nightwing!"

"Hold on, I'm talking. Oliver! You're mad at Bruce, right? Well, this photo could get him kicked off the League."

"Nightwing! Give me that!"

" _Heeeey_ , R.R.! I just walked in on the most interesting thing. I sent you a photo." Dick pressed his comm, and forced himself to stop laughing. "So are we going to go save the day or what?"

The Joker rose, dusting off his shirt. "Yes. I am."

"What do you-"

The Joker turned and planted a lingering kiss on Bruce's cheek, and then turned and strode back to Harley.


	7. Red Stamp

“Bruce?” Nightwing turned, looking confused. “What’s he doing?”

Bruce clenched his fists. “Quinn has Jason. She made us an offer… and he took it.”

“And why were you making out with him in a closet?”

Bruce didn’t answer.

“And on the subject of closets-”

The door to Quinn’s room opened, and a goon emerged, dragging the unconscious Jason. He dropped him on the ground in front of them.

Nightwing sprung at him, but the good dodged easily and kicked him in the chest, before turning and running back into the room.

“Are there goons upstairs?”

“Yeah. They let me through, though.”

“How did you know to come here?"

“Damian called me and said that Jason- he said what happened.” Dick crouched down and ran his fingers through Jason’s hair. “Hey, tough guy.”

Jason smiled without opening his eyes. “Hey, pretty boy.”

Dick scooped him up. “Let’s go. I’ve got him.”

Bruce glanced toward the door where he had last seen the Joker.

_Don’t make things worse._

He and Dick headed into the elevator and left the warehouse. It was empty.

Bruce got into the car, and Dick pulled Jason into the backseat.

“I-  _hate_ \- clowns-” he muttered.

Damian scrutinized Bruce. “Father... why do you have lipstick on?”

Bruce wiped his mouth furiously. “I don’t.”

“You  _do_. It's all over your face."

Bruce stepped on the gas, and started back toward the Cave. “We’re going home.”

The drive was silent. In the Cave, Dick took Jason over to the medical table and called for Alfred to help him. Damian went upstairs. Bruce sat down at the Batcomputer, reached into his filing cabinet, and pulled out the one marked  _Joker_.

 _Name: Unknown. Age: Unknown. Family: Unknown_.

The man was just one big, red stamp:  _Unknown_.

Several hours later, Jason came up to him.

“Hey, Bruce?”

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Just going through some files.”

“Right. Revisiting your greatest caper. I was just wondering…”

Bruce wasn’t sure what he said next; he vaguely recalled nodding, and agreeing to something, and then Jason left. Bruce pulled another photograph out of the file. The Joker smiled up at him, like he knew some secret he didn’t.

He couldn’t care about this man. He couldn’t care about this red stamp.

_But he did._

He didn’t want him to die. He didn’t want any of his rogues gallery to die, because no person was beyond saving. He'd made a vow that he would never let anyone die again. And, in some odd way, he even considered them his friends. Perhaps even family, like distant relations.

_We’re you real family! Us! We could have served anyone!_

Bruce examined the photograph more closely. It was funny, seeing the Joker with his face. He was starting to get used to the stitches holding it in place.

 _You love me! You love me! Deny it all you want, but you love me!  
_ Bruce took a deep breath and pulled out the latest photo from the file. It was a mugshot, taken a few weeks after the events of the dinner party, when the police had found the Joker, washed up on the banks of the Gotham River.

Bruce remembered being furious with himself for letting the Joker fall, and for letting it take so long to find him. He hadn’t even taken part in the search. What would he have done if he  _had_  found the Joker, and he’d been- He decided not to finish that train of thought.

There was another photo, taken when the Joker was found. He was curled up on the riverbank, unconscious, his face clutched to his chest.

_My king and I._

If the Joker died now… No. He wouldn’t. He hadn’t died yet, and there was no  _way_  the clown would give up now.

The realization that the Joker might be right about him hit Bruce in the gut, and he had to press his hands to his temples and just  _stop_  for a minute.

_I can’t love him. I can’t care about him. After everything he did…_

He should want him dead.  _So why can’t I hate him?_

He had to get his mind off of the Joker. Bruce pushed the file away and started to search the internet for something to distract him. He found himself reading about Little Shop of Horrors. It was about a young man named Seymour Krelborn who lived in the run-down, filthy part of a city similar to Gotham. He worked in a flower shop, and discovered a venus flytrap that he named after his coworker, Audery. Audrey II made Seymour and his employer, Mushnik, rick. But the plant was soon revealed to have strange eating habits, and drank blood. Seymour was tricked into feeding Audrey’s abusive boyfriend to the plant, then Mushnik, and eventually Audrey and himself.

“Somewhere That’s Green,” the song the Joker had been singing in the kitchen, turned out to be sung by the love interest of the story, the human Audrey, expressing her desire to live in a suburban house with Seymour and to have a simple, perfect life. Towards the end of the play she sang a reprise, begging Seymour to feed her to the venus flytrap as she was already near death. He listened to it online.

_“You'll wash my tender leaves, you'll smell my sweet perfume. You'll water me and care for me, you’ll see me bud and bloom! I’m feeling strangely happy now, contented and serene… Oh don't you see? Finally I'll be somewhere that's green.”_

Bruce rose and headed upstairs. He found Dick in his room, reading a book.

“Dick? You like old movies, right?”  
Dick looked up. “This should be good."

“I was wondering if you wanted to watch Little Shop of Horrors.”

“You want me to watch a musical comedy with you?”

“Yes.” It handn't sounded like a comedy.

"You want to watch a movie that has a cult following? With me?"

"... Yes."

Dick rolled his eyes. “You’ve lost your mind.” But he stood up and reached under his bed, pulling out a box. “Lucky for you, I  _do_ like old movies.” He pulled out a DVD and stretched, then headed towards the door. “Special edition. Original ending and everything, Come on.”

Bruce followed him into the the room with the biggest television. Dick popped in the DVD, left, and returned several moments later with Jason.

_“On the twenty third day of the month of September, in an early of a decade not too long before our own, the human race suddenly encountered a deadly threat to its very existence. And this terrifying enemy surfaced, as such enemies often do, in the seemingly most innocent and unlikely of places…”_

Jason grinned. “I love this movie. Except for the ending.”

Dick laughed. “This is the special edition. It has the original ending in the features.”

“Can we watch it?”

“Yeah.”

“Sweet!” Jason put his hands behind his head. "I  _love_  mass destruction!" He coughed politely. "You know. In movies."

Dick glanced over at Bruce. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You look kinda sick.”

“I’m fine.”

Audrey appeared on screen. So this was the girl whose part the Joker had been singing.

_Was he comparing himself to her? Or does he just like the song?_

Several hours later, the movie ended. Dick went to the menu, selected special features, and started to play the original ending.

_Oh my God._

Jason leaned over to look at him. “Bruce, you look like you’re about to faint.”

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about the Joker?  _How was he managing to compare the_ Joker _to this poor, dying girl?_

Bruce stood up sharply. “Is Ivy still here?”

“Yeah.” Jason looked Bruce up and down. “You might want to pull your mask up before you barge in on her in costume.”

Bruce nodded, pulling his cowl on, and headed to Ivy’s room. She was sitting in bed, watching the plant on her bedside table. As Batman watched, it grew several inches.

“Not your strongest work.”

“I was hurt. I’m healing.”

“I didn’t know there was a plant in this room.”

“The butler brought it to me,” she said with a hint of disdain.

“You don’t like him?”

“He’s nice enough, but he hasn’t tried to flirt with me. I suppose it’s my  _hair_.”

Batman rolled his eyes. “Ivy, do you really want a man as old as him flirting with you?”

“No. But men are supposed to flirt with me.” She frowned. “Bruce Wayne didn’t try to impress me, either. How many men are in this house?”

“Quite a few.”

“And they’re all bachelors?”

“Yes.”

“I really have to fix my hair.”

Bruce left.

Why had he gone up to see her in the first place?

_You need sleep. Tomorrow’s Thanksgiving. Go get some rest._

Bruce headed over to his bedroom and laid down. Alfred appeared in the door.

“Master Bruce? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Alfred.”

Alfred sat down on the bed next to him. “Is this about the Joker?”

“No.”

“I know you care about him, sir.”

Bruce groaned internally, and sat up to face Alfred. “I don’t know where you got an idea like that.”

“Other than the photo Master Richard sent me?” This time Bruce moaned out loud. “You make it bluntly obvious. You’ve gone out of your way to protect him too many times to count. I won’t deny it; I dislike him entirely. I might even loathe him. But you care about him, so I care for him. I don’t know what it is you feel for him. Paternal, some sort of friendship, or something… closer, as illustrated in that photo…” Bruce moaned again. “But I’ve learned over time that it’s best to hold onto the people you care about. And would I be correct in guessing the reason you’re upset is because you didn’t?”

Bruce buried his face into his pillow. “He left. It was his choice.”

“Why did he leave?”

“For Quinn.”

“Is that really why he left?”

“She gave us Jason...”

“So he left for Master Jason?”

“He left for me.”

“I see.”

Bruce took in a long breath, and then let it out. “Why couldn’t I save them both? I did before.”

“Do you really feel that the Joker is lost to you?”

“He went with Quinn.”

“You feel as if he’s chosen her over you.”

“No I don’t!”

Alfred ran his hand through Bruce’s hair comfortingly. “He will come back for you.”

“How do you know?”

“He always comes back for you. It’s rather annoying. Especially when he kidnaps me.”

Bruce smiled. “I’ll have a word with him about that.”

“And if you intend to have him over, speak to him about singing in the shower. Not that I mind, but he  _is_  a bit loud.”

“I doubt that he’ll be back.”

“You’ll also have to make a rule concerning kidnappings and attempted murders.”

Bruce nodded.

“I’ll leave you to rest now, Master Bruce. Ring if you need me.”

The minute Alfred’s stood up, Bruce fell into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dynamic-in-red made this beautiful fan art for me! Please check it out!
> 
> http://dynamic-in-red.tumblr.com/post/80894958352/fanart-from-harlecats-fanfic-tainted-love-yes


	8. Final Farthest

 

“Father! Father!”

Bruce grunted and rolled over. “Not now, Damian.”

“Father!”

Bruce opened one eye. “What time is it?”

“Two in the morning!” Damian pulled himself up onto the bed.

“What are you doing awake?”

“Well, I _did_ sleep until midnight or so, then I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I _borrowed_ Drake’s copy of King of the Skies, but at one thirty, someone came to our door.”

“What?! Who?” Bruce sat up. “Are we being attacked?”

“It’s Mother! Mother’s here!”

_“Talia?”_

“Can she have dinner with us? Can she?”

Bruce smiled, against his will. Sometimes, he forgot how young Damian was. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Why _not_?!”

“We’re having the Gordons over. Not sure if it would make a good impression to have the daughter of a terrorist over. Especially considering our night jobs. Then there’s that time she tried to kill you…”

“When are they getting here?”

“Three thirty.”

“Can I at least have lunch with her? You can avoid her. I promise she won’t try and kill me!”

“I don’t-”

_“Please!”_

“... I suppose.”

“Yes!” Damian grinned. “Thanks, Father!” He jumped off of the bed and sprinted out of the room. Bruce rolled back into bed.

“Hey, Bruce?”

Bruce opened his eyes. Dick was sitting on the edge of his bed.

“What time is it?”

“Two thirty.”

“In the afternoon?” Dick nodded. “Already?” Bruce sat up. “I must’ve slept well.”

“Like a rock. Jason came in to talk to you at eleven or so, but you were passed out.”

“Sorry.”

“I wanted to get a word in with you before Babs and Jim get here.”

“Is Damian back?”

“Yes. But Bruce-” Dick sighed, looking exhausted. “About you and the Joker-”

“There’s nothing between us.”

“Except a bit of clothing. Bruce, I really don’t have anything against you two, so long as he doesn’t try to kill the family again.”

“I _don’t_ have any feelings for him.”

“Of course not.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“No. I walked in on you two kissing. In a _closet_. I don't know how long this has been going on-"

“There’s nothing _going on_ -”

Dick silenced him with a glare. “Look, here’s what I’m trying to say. Unlike _you_ , I’m not going to tell you who you can and can’t be involved with. But if you _do_ get involved with the Joker, you’ll have to talk to him about his trying to kill us-”

“I’m not going to-”

“And who he kills.”

There was a brief pause. “I’m not involved with the Joker.”

“You two were-”

“Small detail. But there is nothing going on.”

“If you say so,” Dick agreed, looking skeptical. “Now, I’d get up if I were you, the Jim and Babs will be here in an hour or so, and we’d all appreciate it if you don’t look like…”

“A bat?”

“Yeah.” Dick smiled. “And Bruce, we’ll try to get the Joker back.”

Bruce nodded and went to change. He made himself a cup of coffee, then strode into the television room, and immediately regretted it.

Tim, Damian, and Ivy were sitting on the floor, watching Little Shop of Horrors, while Dick and Jason were sprawled out on the couch, a bowl between them.

“... Hello,” he said hesitantly.

“This is a horrible movie,” Ivy said without looking up. “The love interest is objectified and is made to look stupid. I like the plant, though.”

“You’ll _definitely_ prefer the original ending, then,” Jason said, scooping up a handful of popcorn.

She didn’t reply.

“Can _we_ get an Audrey Two?” Damian asked.

“No.”

“But-”

_“No.”_ Bruce sat down next to Dick.

_“Yes!”_ Ivy shouted. _“Kill the dentist!”_

“You’re ten years old,” Bruce realized. “Are you sure you should be watching this?”

“I want to.”

“Bad reason. Out.”

Damian pouted. “Do I have to-”

“Yes.”

“But I see this kind of stuff all the time when-”

Bruce looked pointedly at Ivy.

“-I play videogames.”

“Fine, but if you get nightmares, I'm taking those _videogames_ away.”

Damian rolled his eyes. Ivy turned to Tim.

“Your brother's cute.”

“He isn’t my brother,” Damian and Tim bother snarled. Damian shoved popcorn into his mouth.

“You look like him,” Ivy went on. “I’m saying you’re cute. I’m flirting with you.”

“I’m seventeen.”

“And I’m irresistible. Just _flirt_ with me.”

Tim glanced at her. “You’re objectifying the love interest.”

Ivy flipped him off and laid down.

After the ending credits, Dick picked up the remote and went to watch the original ending.

“He _killed_ Audrey!” Ivy shouted. “Audrey Two! He killed the flytrap! He killed the plant! The _monster_!”

“The plant? Or is Seymour the monster?” Jason asked quizzically.

“Seymour is!”

“She’s going to like this version _so_ much better,” Dick muttered.

"Is she eating with us?"

"We invited her, but she said no."

"Plus Gordon's coming," Jason added.

Ivy cheered loudly as the plant devoured Seymour, but  got teary during when Audrey died. “That wasn’t any better. She dies.”

"You know," Bruce commented. "The song is incorrect. They _don't_ got a chance."

"Really?"

"It's called _Finale Ultimo_. If taken literally, it means final last."

"Or final highest," Damian said. "Or final greatest. Maybe even final farthest." He looked up at Bruce, who was staring at him. "What? It's all in the context. Latin is confusing."

"And yet you're fluent," Tim muttered.

"Mother taught me."

The movie ended. Ivy cheered again.

Alfred appeared in the doorway. “Master Bruce, the Gordons are here.” Bruce rose, and was followed out by Tim and Damian.

“We also had a… late RSVP,” Alfred said quietly.

“From who?”

“Miss Kyle.”

Bruce nodded. Dick came up next to Bruce.

“Jase is taking Ivy up to her room,” he said in a low voice, looking agitated. Then he brightened. “Hey! Babs!” He hurried forward to greet Commissioner Gordon and Barbara, who was using crutches.

“Hey, Dickhead,” she said affectionately, and mussed his hair.

“Great to see you, Jim,” Bruce smiled, and shook Gordon’s hand.

“You too, Bruce.” He looked him up and down, a crease appearing in his forehead. “Everything okay, buddy? You look shaken up.”

“Oh, I’m fine. And Jim, I should probably tell you, Batman dropped off a guest for us, asked her to take care of her. He says he really needs her for this case, and we can’t let her get arrested just yet.”

“Who is it?”

“Ivy.”

Jim nodded, frowning. “I’d wondered where she’d gotten to. She broke out, but she hasn’t done anything too serious yet, so if you keep her in check, I suppose I can look the other way.”

“Thanks. Which reminds me, I’m having another guest over you might be familiar with. Selina’s joining us for dinner.”

“Selina _Kyle_? Sheesh. The kind of company you hang around with. It’s a wonder you aren’t some sort of masked maniac.”

Bruce chuckled. “It really is. We’ve a bit of time before dinner, do you and Babs want to sit down?”

“Yes _please._ ” Barbara limped forward with Dick at her side. “My foot is _killing_ me.”

“She got shot,” Jim explained. “By a mugger. Doctor says she’ll be fine, but,all things considering…” He glanced over at Dick, who was helping Barbara down the hall. “I mean, you remember what the Joker did to her. I was worried the bullet would leave some sort of permanent damage, with her medical history. But she’s going to be fine.” He sighed. “I’m glad she’s got someone like your Dick.”

“I’m glad he’s got a friend like Babs.”

Gordon laughed. “Yeah, friends. And speaking of friends, tell Batman he'd best be on the lookout. Quinn's planning a dinner party tonight, and he's invited."

"He knows."

Jason ducked into the room. “Hey, Jimbo, you mind if I borrow my _father_ for a minute?”

“Sure thing.”

“Thanks.” Jason grabbed Bruce by the arm and yanked him down the hall and into a sitting room. He pushed him down into a chair, and dropped a bundle of papers on the desk in front of him. Bruce went to pick them up, but Jason slapped his hand down.

“First things first.”

“This isn’t about-”

“The Joker? Partly.” Jason pulled up a chair and sat down across from Bruce. “Dick sent me the photo.”

Bruce clenched his jaw. “That wasn’t-”

“Okay. So you _weren’t_ making in out in a closet while my life was on the line?”

Bruce closed his eyes. “It was the least I could do. He volunteered to swap himself for you. That was what he wanted in return.”

“He wanted you to feel him up, get a boner, and _continue_ making out?”

“I didn’t-”

“I _saw the photo!”_ Jason nearly shouted, standing up.

Bruce curled his fingers into a fist. “Jason.”

“It’s funny, Bruce,” he said in a tight voice. His eyes looked moist. “But now that his whole Batman-will-kill-you scheme is over… now that he’s given that up…”

“Jason-”

“Before all that- I was starting to- it felt like-” Jason drew in a shuddering breath. “Look. I’m _not_ part of your little Bat family. It was nice to play dress up, but that’s just not me. I know it. You know it. And D- I think it’s better that we all stop pretending.”

“What are you talking about?”

Jason sat down. He spoke in a frighteningly calm voice. “Let’s be honest, Bruce. We all know that if Dick had gotten killed, you would have done the un _thinkable_ for him. If Tim got killed, you probably would have dumped him into a Lazarus Pit yourself. And if, God forbid, _perfect,_ precious _Damian_ got murdered, you would do _both._ Now, I don’t know if it’s me, or-” He choked on his words, and had to blink quickly to clear the tears from his eyes. “Or if it’s the _Joker,_ but he was right. I’m not your family.”

“What are-”

“So let’s make it official.” Jason pushed the papers toward Bruce.

“What are these?”

“You’re un-adopting me.”

Bruce paused. “Is this about that time that you died?”

“Partly.”

“And when I took you into Arkham?”

“Little bit.”

Bruce looked over the papers. “Where did you get these?”

“Your lawyer. I got your permission to get them last night.”

“You did?”

Jason laughed bitterly. “Yeah. When you were looking through the Joker file.”

“I’m not un-adopting you.”

“You are.” Jason drummed his fingers against the desk. “I’m sick of this. One of has got to stop this first, and it might as well be me. We all know I’ll never be as good as _them_. Not in your eyes.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is.”

“Jason, when you died, I thought about putting you in a Pit myself.”

“It’s not about what you did or didn’t do.”

“That’s exactly what this is about! You’re still upset that I didn’t kill the Joker!”

Jason took a deep breath. “Just sign the papers, Bruce.”

“You’re my son, and I’m not giving you up.”

Jason snorted. “You already have. I’m not going to force you to sign the papers. But either way, it won’t make a difference. I’m leaving for Blüdhaven next week and I’m not planning on coming back.”

Bruce wanted to know why. He wanted to know what he’d done wrong. He wanted to know what had brought this on, if Quinn had something to Jason, or if this really was just an old wound reopened-

He signed the papers.

Jason snatched the papers back, as if worried Bruce might try and take them. He rose and headed for the door. Bruce followed.

“I’ll just go legalize these.”

“And how long will that take?”

“Maybe a few minutes. Maybe a few years. Who cares?”

“Will you be back in time for dinner?”

“Probably not. But hey,” Jason stepped out the door and turned, glowering. “I probably wasn’t invited.

“Jas-”

He turned and lifted his collar against the wind. “And even if I was, I wouldn’t come anyway.”


	9. Don't Tempt Me

As Jason stormed out, Selina strode in. She jumped as the door slammed shut.

“What’s eating him?” She narrowed her eyes. “Would this have anything to do with a certain photo Nightwing sent out?”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with that. And don’t use those names in the house. The Gordons are over.”

“Well, it’s been  _much_  too long since I’ve seen the dear old Commissioner.” She smiled.

“A friend of yours is here, too. But Ivy’s not coming to dinner with us.”

“Ivy’s here?”

“You remember that Quinn case I told you about? She got caught up in it.”

Selina smiled, and took off her coat. “Looks like you got caught up in it, too, if that photo gave me the right impression.”

Bruce grunted. Her eyes widened.

“I thought that was photoshopped! You actually  _kissed_ him? He tried to kill me!”

“Are we going to talk about this  _now_?”

“We are!”

“I thought we agreed to be friends?”

“Friends don’t kiss people who tried to kill your girl- your friend!”

“It never would have worked out between us.”

“Why? Because of the Joker?”

“Because we’re too different.”

“We’re-”

“You said so yourself, Selina. I’m your buzzkill. Your spoilsport.”

There was a short moment of silence.

“How do you know I said that?” Selina demanded.

“So you  _did_  say it.”

“Yes, I said it. I said it to keep the Joker from killing me, and from pulling me into that sick dinner party game of his. How did you know?”

“He sent me a recording from Arkham. I just assumed he was trying to get into my head, but it sounded too clean to have been edited. So what’s your explanation?”

“It was in self-defense, Bruce. You would have said it about me. So  _how_ , exactly, are we different?”

“The difference, Selina, is that I would have said something like that to save you. You said it to save yourself.”

She growled. “You weren’t there, honey. He tried to skin me alive. What would you have done?”

“I’m not criticizing you. I wouldn’t want you to get killed.”

“What would you have done? Would you have let yourself get skinned?”

Bruce was silent. Selina snorted.

“Of course you would.  _You’re_  perfect. Much too perfect for someone like  _me_.”

“Selina-”

She stomped towards the stairs. “I think I’ll eat with Pam.”

_“Selina-”_

“I’m eating with Ivy.”

“Sel-”

She turned. “Look, Bruce. I flat out told the Joker we weren’t together. Maybe I didn’t use that exact wording, but that was the message. I’m the one who made him think he even had a  _chance_  with you. So it’s my fault he came down on you like that. I’m sorry that happened. I really am. What I’m trying to-” She pressed her eyes shut, and took a deep breath. Then she held out her hand. “Friends?”

“More than friends. You’re my official babysitter.”

Selina laughed. “Only if you pay me.”

“Or what? You’ll rob us?”

“Of  _course_  not,” she said, sounding entirely untrustworthy. “Now go ahead, sweetie. I’ll eat with Pam. I’d love the chance to hang around her.”

Bruce nodded in agreement. “You know the small guest room?”

“Yes.”

“She’s in there.”

Selina nodded and left.

Bruce smiled after her, and then went to go to dinner. He, Gordon, Barbara, Dick, Tim, and Damian gathered in the dining room. The table was set, quite beautifully, for nine.

Alfred appeared in the doorway. “Where’s Master Jason and Miss Kyle?”

“They- won’t be joining us.”

Alfred raised an eyebrow. Dick pulled his arm from around Barbara’s shoulders.

“Where’s Jase?”

“He had something to do.”

Dick stared at Bruce. Alfred cleared his throat. “Shall we take our seats?”

Jim, Tim, and Damian all agreed. They all sat down, except for Alfred and Dick, who both moved to cut the turkey.

“I’ve got it, Alfred.”

“Master Richard, I’m afraid  _I’ll_  be cutting the turkey this meal-”

“Really, Alfred, I’m not a little boy anymore, I can  _handle_  the knife-”

“If you will, sir-”

“Let  _go_  of the knife.”

Damian rose and, quite calmly, snatched the knife from their hands and cut the turkey. Dick stared at him. “I was going to-”

“Well!” Gordon said, a bit too loudly. “Why don’t we all dig in?”

“Yes!” Tim started to shovel potatoes into his mouth at a lightning fast pace.

Damian raised an eyebrow disdainfully. “Close your mouth, Drake.”

“You close yours, Wayne,” Tim replied, but around the stuffing, it sounded more like “Yooclusurzain.”

“So, Bruce,” Jim asked. “How’ve things been at Wayne Enterprises?”

“Fantastic. Lucius’s been doing a great job, spearheading the Gotham Initiative. I’ve been pretty busy lately, but hopefully I’ll be able to work with him again soon.”

“What’ve you been busy with?”

“You know me. Lots of travelling, lots of parties.”

“Sure sounds like you.”

Bruce chuckled. “But what about you, Jim? How are things at the GCPD?”

“We’ve been having some trouble with the Joker. Well, not him… You remember Quinn?”

“His moll? How could I  _not_?”

“We got a call from Batman explaining the whole thing. She’s taken it into her head that  _she’s_ supposed to be the Joker, and because of this, well- things have gotten crazy.”

“I can imagine,” Alfred said. “ _Two_  Jokers?!”

“One’s bad enough.”

“I agree,” Bruce nodded. “After all the things that monster’s done-”  _Like kiss you? Like trade his life for Jason’s? Did you hate him then?_  “You might as well just lock him up and throw away the key.”

Jim looked shaky as he agreed. “Sooner or later, we’re going to get him, and we’re going to get him good. After what he did to Babs- and Sarah-”

“Easy, Jim. Don’t think about that. Let’s be positive today.”

“I agree. Positive.” He raised his glass. “To a bright tomorrow.”

“A bright tomorrow,” Bruce raised his glass, and they clinked them together. “May it come- hopefully tomorrow-”

“Or perhaps next week-”

“Or perhaps years from now. But may it come nonetheless.”

“Funny,” Gordon took a sip of his drink. “I didn’t take you for a poet.”

“I’m not. I’m a playboy and philanthropist. Or so the magazines tell me.”

“Bruce, they don’t do you justice.”

“Can we have pie now?” Damian asked, bouncing in his seat.

“Is there ice cream?” Tim demanded. “Do we get ice cream with the pie?”

“I haven’t even finished my dinner,” Dick said, looking down at his plate.

Babs stared down at her plate. “I haven’t even  _started_  my dinner.”

“I want pie,” Damian announced.

“ _Wait_ , Damian.”

When everyone had finished their dinners, Alfred left for the kitchen, and emerged with a tray of pies. “We have quite the variety of desserts this year.”

“Is there ice cream?” Tim demanded.

“I’m afraid the store was all out, and I didn’t have any time to make any.”

“What kind are they?” Barbara asked, looking over them.

“They’re  _beautiful_ ,” Damian oohed, looking over the pies.

“We have pumpkin, apple, chocolate-”

“Is that the one with whipped cream?”

“It is. Homemade, I might add. And we also have pecan.”

“Yum!”

"Sounds delicious," Gordon smiled. "But I'll have to pass. Eating healthy- doctor's orders."

Barbara waved a slice of pumpkin under his nose. "Not  _one_  bite? It's your  _favorite_." She took a large bite. "Ooh, it's  _really_  good. This is  _sooo_ good! It's too bad you can't eat any!"

"Barbara." Gordon moaned. "Don't tempt me."

" _Ooh!_  This is the  _best_  pie I've  _ever_ had!"

"Dammit, Barb, that's not fair!"

She chewed loudly. "Oh! This chocolate pie is just-" She blew a kiss.  _"Muah!"_

Jim groaned. "One bite. Just one bite of the pumpkin."

Barbara served him a large slice. Jim wolfed it down. "No more."

"But the  _apple_ -"

"Do you  _want_  me to look like Harvey?"

Dick took several slices of pie, and rose. Barbara looked up at him.

"Where are you going, Dickhead?"

"I'm putting these away for Jason."

She frowned. Bruce pushed away his chocolate pie.


	10. Floodgates

Bruce had meant to stay up all night with the family, on lookout for Quinn. There was no way he would be caught off guard.

But he fell asleep minutes after Jim and Barbara left. He had a curious dream; that Quinn came into his room and kissed him on the cheek, and dragged him down into the Cave, and dressed him up in his Batsuit. It was an older model, not as well armored, and with none of the little adjustments he made- no lockpicks in the gloves, or hidden gadgets. She didn’t put on the cowl, either, just the cape. Quinn considered him, nodded, and shot a needle into his arm. The dream ended.

Of course, it wasn't a dream. He realized that when he woke up. He was tied into place in a chair at a dinner table. He could hear a ragged breathing next to him. Seated around the table was Dick, Barbara, Tim, and Damian. He turned his head. Jason and the Joker were on either side of him. They all seemed fine. Except for the Joker, they hadn’t been tied up or blindfolded.

"Er," he said. The Joker's head swiveled toward him immediately.

"Hey. You were right. She  _does_ want to kill me."

"I told you."

"I don't know why  _I'm_  here," Jason muttered. "This is so stupid."

"What happened? Did he disown you for being dead?"

Bruce snarled. "Don't talk to my son that-."

Jason growled and leaned forward to lunge across the table. "I'm not your son,” he snapped. “And  _don't talk to me that way-"_  Dick grabbed him.

"Stay still. There are flints under your chair."

The Joker banged his head on the table. "Why are the flints under  _his_  chair?"

"I have a better question," Batgirl said. "Where's your  _stupid_ girlfriend?"

 _"Oh,_ come  _on,"_  Quinn's voice echoed from all around them.  _"Would I really join you for dinner? Why would I stick my neck out like that? I'm not an idiot!"_

"Did she just call me an idiot?!" the Joker demanded.

_"I did! Because you are one! Remember your dinner party?"_

"Yes! I do! And you screwed it up! How did you even get the plans for that?"

_"They cost me fifty dollars. Eddie gave me a cheap price, because you booby trapped his suit. He remembered them perfectly. So sweet of him. I almost regret knocking him out..."_

"Well, if you have the plans, how come you  _fucked it_ up?"

"Don't we have bigger things to worry about?" Damian asked.

_"Oh, no, sweetie. I didn't mess it up. You did. I've taken your schemes and made them better before. Remember the death of a hundred smiles?"_

"You fucked that one up too!"

 _"I got closer to killing Batman than_ you  _ever did. And this dinner party was just like that one. It just needed a little... Flip. See, I did some research. And the Batman-Batfamily relationship was backwards in your plan._ 'Batman doesn't love you!'  _you said. Heh. No. Backwards._

 _"Oh, poor Brucey! Remember the day after the dinner? When you invited the family over to talk? And they aaaall canceled?_ Something came up! I can't make it! I decided to go train!  _And you know what they did? They lounged around in bed all day!"_

 _Is that true?_ Bruce cast an accusatory glance at Dick, who looked away.  _No. Right now we focus on getting out of here alive._

_"So, I put the flints under their chairs, and, well- frankly, I think we know who got dosed in gasoline."_

"Me?"

 _"Oh, not just you. Your sweet little_ friend  _took a nice, long bath in it. Anyone so much as moves, and he goes to in flames. Yes, there's the chance that Batman will go up in flames... I'd say he has a two to ten percent chance of surviving. Mr. J, though, has zero._

_"Only one of you needs to stand up. Everyone at the table except those two will stay safe, warm, and snug. Even wiggling in your chair will set off the gas."_

Jason muttered something under his breath. Joker started to tap the arm of his chair.

Quinn went on.  _Something something new king something something Batman something_ -

It was difficult to concentrate with the Joker tapping.

 _"Stop that,"_ he hissed. The Joker tapped harder.

" _Listen_ , silly Bat."

"It's distracting."

"Don't be  _blind_."

So Batman concentrated on his tapping. Several moments later, a pattern became clear. He was tapping out morse code- one word, over and over.

_W-A-T-E-R-W-A-T-E-R-_

Bruce glanced up at the ceiling. It was moist. He tapped his answer back, and looked over at Damian.

 _What?_  he mouthed.

Bruce looked insistently up at the ceiling.

Damian nodded.  _"Drake,"_ he hissed. "Put your hand on my chair."

"What?"

"I'm getting up."

"You're  _what_?!"

"I'm just standing up. Grayson, you put your hand down too. You have to hold the chair steady while I flood the tunnel."

Dick and Tim both sat their hands down on Damian's chair. He stood up. "Someone distract Quinn."

"How'd you manage to get us all here?" Barbara asked, quite loudly.

 _"Oh!_ Some _one's finally asking the good questions! Red was tough. Had to find him and knock him out. But everyone else? Well, that was easy. After all, everyone trusts ol' Alfred!"_

Damian froze. He'd been carefully standing up in his chair, but now he stopped, still partly bent over.

"What did she say?"

"What did you say?" Jason demanded.

 _"Of course! Alfred would_ never  _hurt you! Why would he poison your pie?"_

"What?"

Harley burst into laughter. Bruce clenched his fists.

_Alfred wouldn't do that._

But then again, things had been turned on their heads. The Joker had been helping him. Jason had left him. Barbara couldn't walk again. Was Alfred's betrayal really possible?

"Got it," Damian said, and started to examine the tunnel roof. "I think I see a weak point."

"We're about to be submerged in water," Bruce said as calmly as he could. "I want you to grab ahold of whoever is next to you." The Joker instantly snatched his arm, Jason took his hand somewhat reluctantly. "R.R., Nightwing, hold Robin's legs. I don't know how hard or fast the water will come in, so hold on tight, and stick together, and let's hope the tunnel isn't closed off. Ready?"

"Ready," they answered him. Damian nodded. He took aim, and threw the batarang.

For a moment, nothing happened. Quinn seemed to notice something was wrong, because she stopped mid-speech. A crack spread across the roof. Everyone sucked in a large breath. Jason tightened his grip.

Water collapsed on them.

Jason's hand was instantly torn from Batman's. The Joker grabbed on to him as tightly as he could- with both hands. That meant they'd lost the rest of the family.

The water spread around him, pushing in all directions, shoving him one way and then the next. He couldn't breathe, or open his eyes. He didn't know which way was up or down, he only knew that he hit his head against something hard. Once he collided with someone, but before he could hold onto them, they were gone. He inhaled, against his will, and water filled his lungs. He couldn't close his mouth against the tide. He was going to did.

But then he surfaced, and gasped for air. The water swept him along the tunnels, getting shallower and shallower, until he was sprawled on the ground. He rolled over and retched, water spilling out onto the ground. He laid still for several moments, chest heaving, and basking in the precious air. And then he realized the Joker was gone.

"Joker!" he shouted, and ran back into the tide, but was pushed back. The water was starting to even out, but it's currents were still strong.

No belt. No tools. No way of calling the car.

"Car!" He tried anyway. Nothing. He started walking. "Nightwing! Red Hood! R.R.! Robin! Batgirl! Joker! Nightwing! Red Hood! R.R.! Robin! Batgirl! Joker!" He continued calling their names, walking through the tunnels. He had to find them.

Bruce did his best to ignore the crashes and shaking walls, but he froze at a scream in the distance.  _“... isn’t Harley!”_

Every sound seemed to be coming from every direction. Just his luck, Bruce had wandered into the tunnel with the biggest echo.

_“Isn’t Harley! Harley! Harley! Ley! Ley! Ey...”_

The entire cave shook. Bruce leapt out of the way as something red and blue rocketed through the wall, and then was promptly knocked over by something purple.

“You’re alive!”

Bruce coughed. “Joke-”

The Joker started to kiss his face, again and again. “She said she was going to kill you and you’re alive I’m so happy you’re alive I thought you might be dead but you’re not you’re alive I-”

“Would you  _get off of me!”_

The Joker sat up. He was still sitting on Batman.

“You’re not off of me.”

“This is as far off of you as I’m getting.”

The red and blue blur stepped into view. Bruce frowned.

“What are  _you_  doing here?”

“Thought you might need a hand-” The Joker cut Bruce off, grabbing his face again and kissing him. Bruce pushed him off.

“Superman, we don’t need your help.”

“Oh, God.” Clark took a step back. “That wasn’t photoshopped? Gross.”

“How many people did Dick send that to? Get off of me!” Bruce stood up. The Joker slid down onto the ground.

“He attacked me,” he said, pointing at Superman. “I want you to beat him up.”

“He can’t beat me up. I’m Superman.”

Bruce lifted his hands. “I’m not beating anyone up," he paused. "Yet. And besides, I want to know what he’s doing here, first.”

“See that?” Joker stood up. “He’s asking questions  _before_  he attacks you. Isn’t that  _considerate_?”

“I’m helping you!” Clark said.

Joker rolled his eyes. “Harley said his name, he showed up, and she blamed everything on me. So he attacked me! And now my face is falling off! I  _just_  got this sewn back on!”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Just keep your face on.”

“Do you have any staples?”

“Why would I have staples?”

“Well, how am I supposed to keep my face on without staples?”

“I don’t know!”

Superman covered his forehead. “Geez, you two are like my parents.”

“We are  _not_ ,” Bruce snarled. “Now shut up.”

“That’s so cute!” the Joker squealed. “Are your parents costumed maniacs too?”

Superman raised his hands in defeat. “Look, if you don’t want my help, I’ll go. I heard my name and-”

“Do you always fly somewhere when you hear your name?” Joker asked. “Because, you’re an international hero-”

Superman glared at him, and the Joker scrambled behind Batman. “Let’s keep in mind that you have  _heat vision_.”

Someone started screaming.

“I think that’s Batgirl,” the Joker said.

“How do you know?” Bruce demanded.

“I’m going to put this in the best way I can. I have heard Batgirl scream before.”

 _I shouldn’t have asked_ , Bruce thought. “Come on. We have to find her.”

Joker followed him down the tunnel.

“Hang on.” There was a slight breeze, and Superman vanished and then reappeared. “Ran down to the Cave. Got your belt.”

Bruce snatched the belt out of Clark’s hands and buckled it on.

“Should I go see if I can find Batgirl?”

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Fine, if you-”

“Hang on.” Superman tilted his head. “I’d love to stay and help but there’s a problem in Metropolis. I’ll see if I can make it back in time, and I’ll stop by Batgirl on my way out.”

"I-"

He was gone.

“Wow,” the Joker said. “He’s  _annoying_.”

“Let’s see if we can find Batgirl.”

“Kay.”

Bruce pressed his comm. At least Superman could do  _something_  right. Damian answered almost instantly.

_“Hello, Father.”_

“Where are you?”

_“The Cave with Drake.”_

“Do we know where anyone else is?”

Tim’s voice cut in. “Jason was helping Harley. Apparently, he just changed us into our costumes for the  _party_  and brought the Joker to her after the water. He  _says_  he was trying to protect us-”

The Joker frowned at the comm, then grabbed it _._ “Who are you talking to? Can I talk to them? Are they still alive, too?”

“Give me back my comm!” Bruce snatched it back, only to have the Joker yank it back. “Why didn’t you mention Jas-”

“Hello?” The Joker asked. “Hello _o_ o? This isn’t the one with the red hood is it?”

“Give. Me. The comm!” Bruce hit him over the head, and took it back. “Sorry about that.”

The Joker grinned. “I’m not!”

“I’ll deal with Jason,” Bruce began. “You-”

“That sounds like an innuendo,” the Joker interrupted, and reached for the comm again.

“Give me the-” Bruce tried to push the Joker off, only for them both to fall over. “Get off of me!”

“I wanna help!”

“You can help by getting off of me!” Bruce forced himself up, the Joker falling off of him. “Go stand over there!” He directed his attention back at Tim and Damian. “Right. Sorry. He’s in the corner now.”

The Joker nodded. “I’m in the corner now.”

“I know, I just said- never mind.”

Damian spoke:  _“We’re in the Cave. What’s the plan?”_

“I’ll send the Joker to meet you. I’m going to try and find Batgirl.”

 _“Does he have to come meet_ us _?”_  Tim demanded.  _“We’re perfectly fine on our-”_

“Quinn’s lose in the Cave, and there’s been screaming,” Bruce glanced over at the Joker, who was standing on the far side of the Cave, humming and staring at him. “Besides, I don’t want him wandering around.”

 _“What?”_  Damian asked.

Tim answered him.  _“You didn’t hear it?”_

_“No.”_

“There’s been a lot of screaming,” Bruce explained. “And according to the Joker-”

“That’s me!” the Joker shouted.

“-it sounds like Batgirl.”

 _“Hold up,”_  Tim said. _“You didn’t hear all the screaming?”_

 _“No,”_  Damian replied. _“The Cave’s kind of sound proof when it comes to the tunnels-”_

 _“Hang on,”_ Tim broke in.  _“The door’s opening.”_

There were several faint sounds, and a distant shout that sounded like Dick:  _““Fucking door won’t fucking open!”_

Bruce was silent for a moment. “... What was that?”

_“Nightwing, Superman, and Batgirl.”_

“Is she alright?” Batman asked. Joker glanced up from his place in the corner, looking concerned.

_“N-no…”_

Bruce nodded. “Right. Change in plans. R.R., you’re following Nightwing to the hospital, Robin, you’re going to wait there. Try to get in contact with Jason.”

_“Fine.”_

“Joker, you’re going to meet him in the Cave. I’m going after Quinn.” Bruce reached into his belt.  _Thank God for Superman. And may Clark_ never _know I thought that._

“Here- spare comm number five from my belt.”

Joker crossed over and took it. “Really? For  _me_? How does it work?”

“You press the button.”

“Oh.”

Bruce sighed. “Make sure no one gets in the Cave. Over and out.” He hung up, and turned to the Joker. “The Cave is that way. Go  _straight_  there, and-”

“Before you leave, I ask- no. I  _demand_  an epic makeout session.”

“I don’t-”

The Joker grabbed him and yanked him forward, kissing him for several moments before pulling away. “I’m pretty sure it’s in the epic-makeout-session rules that you have to open your mouth.”

“I don’t think we have time for this right now.”

“You say that like I should care. Come  _on._  Like, five minutes.  _Please._ ”

Bruce relented, and ten minutes later, the Joker pulled away, grinned, and waved as he sprinted away. That… that had been longer than he intended. Bruce wiped his mouth, and his hand come off red. Damn lipstick. Bruce smiled in spite of himself, and hurried off to find Quinn.


	11. Shattered

The difficult part, Bruce realized, was that he really  _did_ have no leads this time. No key witness, no clues, nothing. He was just running through the tunnels, in no particular direction, occasionally shouting Quinn’s name, but there really was nothing.

Until his comm went off.  _“Father, it’s me.”_ Damian said.  _“I’m in the Cave with Todd.”_

“Is he alright?”

_“He’s fine, but he’s really… out of it. Dizzy, his depth perceptions off, and he’s having trouble staying awake. I’ll let you talk to him.”_

“Jason? You there?”

_“... Dick? Izzat you?”_

“Jason, it’s Bruce.”

_“Bruce…”_

“Yes, Bruce. Is everything okay?”

_“Quinn!”_

“What about her?”

_“She’s got him… you can’t… the recording, it’s not- trap-”  
_

“Jason, what are you- Jason?” There was static.

Damian’s voice came into focus.  _“He just- he took off! I’m going after him!”_

“Damian, where’s the Joker?”

_“I don’t know!”_

“It sounds like Quinn has him.

_“Todd, come back!”_ There was the sound of an engine.

“Damian, are you getting on your motorcycle? I told you, I don’t approv-”

_“Gotta go!”_  Damian hung up.

Bruce kept walking, shouting  _“Harley!”_  every few minutes. And then, his comm went off. It was Damian again. He pressed it. “Hello?”

_“Bruce!”_

Bruce froze at the sound of the Joker’s voice. “Yes?”

_“Bruce!”_

“I’m here.”

_“Bat-”_  The Joker broke off, shrieking. There was the sound of breaking glass, and whispering.

“... Joker?”

Someone giggled.  _“Right here!”_  It was Harley. Bruce curled his fists.

“What’ve you-”

The Joker interrupted him.  _“Wait! Don’t-”_

_“I told you to be_ quiet!”

Damian’s voice rose above theirs.  _“Don’t come! It’s-”  
_

_“Ace Chemicals,”_  Harley said.  _“Be there.”_

The line went dead. Bruce didn’t even need to think. He broke into a run. “GPS. Take me to the Cave.”

_“Left turn.”_

He followed the instructions into the Cave. It was empty. He jumped into the Batmobile, and sped out.  _Joker. Damian. Harley. Joker. Damian. Harley._

At Ace Chemicals, he practically fell out of the Batmobile, and raced into Ace Chemicals.  _“Harley!”  
_ The room lit up, to reveal Harley, sitting on a swivel chair in the middle of the room. All the chemicals from the vats were gone.

“It’s  _amazing_  how quickly you’ll come if you’re called,” she said quietly, and smiled. “Better than a Bat-signal.”

“Where-”

“Not here.” She kicked at the ground, causing her chair to spin in a circle. “It’s just the two of us!”

“I’ll rephrase that.” Bruce charged her, and Harley maneuvered the chair to the side, grinning, and stood up, hit him with it, and dropped back into it, zooming backward.

“Still not telling.” Quinn kicked herself over to one of the vats, disappearing behind it before speeding back out, dragging a body behind her.

_“Robin.”_

“He’s cute when he’s unconscious. Tell him he should try it more often.”

“What did-”

“Don’t worry, he’s safe. Just sleeping. My insurance.”

“And the Joker?” Harley burst into laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“I never had him.”

“What?”

Harley pulled a tape recorder out of her coat, and pressed it.  _“Bruce! Bruce! Bruce!”_

“I took the liberty of recording him back on Wednesday. Remember that? When he gave himself up?”

_“Bruce! Batman! Please!”_

“ _Save me!”_  Harley shrieked, and burst into yet more laughter. “Oh, Batman! Come save me! Please!  _Ahahahaha!_  Oh, he  _did_  scream for you. He really did. And then… he realized you weren’t coming.” She clucked her tongue, and kicked closer to Batman. “Too bad, so sad. He actually asked me to kill him. But I wasn’t that kind. Now, are you ready?”

“For what?”

Harley turned her chair toward a covered pile of crates, and whipped the tarp off. She opened one of the boxes. “Come, sit.”

Bruce glanced over at Damian.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. I could’ve been lying about what I did to him. For all you know, he’s poisoned and I’ve got the antidote.”

Bruce nodded and walked over, sitting down on one of the boxes. Harley unloaded the crate, and pulled out a sleek metal machine. “Know what this is?”

“It’s a polygraph. Lie detector, to make things simply. How you got one so advanced, I don’t know.”

“It’s impossible to lie to one of these babies.” Harley pulled out a gun, and turned. “Derrie! Put this up against baby-bird’s head!” A good, the one from who’d set Ivy on them, appeared from a dark corner in the warehouse. Ivy tossed Deryl the gun, and his pointed it at Damian.

“Don’t-”

“I won’t. If you do what I say, that is. Let’s get crackin’.” Once Quinn deemed the polygraph completely hooked up, she pushed herself into her chair. “Now. What’s your name?”

“I’m Batman.”

“Any other names?”

“Caped crusader, the dark knight, and I  _have_  been called the world’s greatest detective-”

“Come  _on_. What’s your real name?”

“Bruce Wayne.”

“Good. Now this boy here, what’s his name?”

“Robin.”

“His legal name.”

“... Damian.”

Quinn nodded. “Correct. What’s my name?”

“Legally? Harleen Quinzel.”

Harley stood up so sharply her chair fell over. “Don’t say that name!”

"Well, what did you want me to say?"

"I'm the Joker!"

“Legally, you're named  _Harleen."_

“Shut up! Deryl! Out of safety!” Deryl clicked the gun out of safety, and pressed it to Damian’s forehead. Bruce stood up.

“Don’t-”

Harley smoothed out her jacket, picked her chair back up, and sat down. “I apologize. Where were we? Ah. Let’s talk about your family, shall we? Your parents?”

“... Thomas and Martha Wayne.”

“Yes, yes. What happened to them?”

“They were killed. By a gunman.”

“Ah. How old were you?”

“Eight.”

“Surely not in front of you?” Bruce nodded. “So you dressed up like a bat. Were all the good animals taken?” Bruce narrowed his eyes. Harley laughed. “Kidding! Kidding. And what about old Jeeves?”

“Alfred?” Bruce’s voice grew quiet. “He’s like a father to me.”

“Too bad, really, that he sold out. And then there’s Dickybird. Lil’ Richard. Your adopted son. What’s his story?”

“He had a difficult childhood, and I took him in.”

“No, that’s Hoodie’s story. It’s not so simple with Nightwing, is it?”

“I suppose not.”

“And what  _about_  Hoodie?”

“He’s my son.”

“Not anymore.”

“No. Not anymore.”

“Who knew  _one_ photo could be so effective? He seems to hate you, now.” Bruce didn’t reply. “I see I’ve touched a nerve. Let’s gloss over the next few birds. Ah, Brucey, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. Just when it seems like you can’t find a lower love interest, you kiss a clown in a closet. But let’s be honest. You aren’t  _really_  serious about it, are you?”

Bruce didn’t say anything.

“I mean,” Harley went on. “This isn’t gonna last forever. And you deserve a fair warning, you’re going to have trouble weaseling out of this one. Because Joker, first edition, is- well, he’s besotted with you. Obsessed. He really admires you.” She sighed sadly. “Unfortunately for him, he has a habit of becoming…  _attached_  to people who just don’t feel the same way. Take Harleen, for example!” She stood up again, and started pacing back and forth. “She was a good girl. Pretty, smart, and his psychologist to boot. There was no  _way_  a lady like her would ever fall for a madman like him. Care for him, maybe. Befriend him, perhaps. But he kept  _pushing,_ and pushing-” her voice changed suddenly, the insane edge disappearing. Her pupils dilated, and her expression softened. “Roses in my office. Threatening my family. And, lucky him, it started working. But to love a lunatic like him, I had to become someone else. Some _thing_  else. And Harley came along.” He stopped pacing, and looked up at Bruce. Then she collapsed. “My god… there was a girl- I had a saw- oh my god. You have to help me. And find her.  _She’s_  here now, too, and I don’t know what she is, but I’m locked inside of her and I  _can’t get out”_

_“Shut up!_  No, I’m here! I’m here!  _Get out! We don’t want you h-_  Help me!  _Can it, blondie!_ Please! Let me-”

Harley sat back down, adjusting her bow tie. “Terribly sorry. Won’t happen again. Where- yes, the Joker. He always  _did_  fall for the ones that never would love him back.”

Bruce lowered his eyebrows. “I want to talk to Harleen.”

“Harleen’s gone. Now, Bruce, let’s put everything out in the open.  _I_  know you don’t love him.  _You_  know you don’t love him. So why don’t you just admit it? And if you don’t, remember the gun against  _Damian’s_  head.”

“If I say I love him, you shoot him. If I say I don’t, and the results say I’m lying, you shoot him. I don’t see a way out of this.”

Harley smiled. “Oh, Bruce. As always, the way out is to tell the truth.”

“I just need a moment to think.”

“I’ve got all the time in the world.”

Bruce took in a deep breath, and closed his eyes.  _Did_  he love the Joker? After the past few days, he couldn’t deny that he felt something for him. Whether or not it was love, he didn’t know. He didn’t want him to be killed. And he liked kissing him. And, oddly enough, he’d almost forgiven him for all the torture he’d put him through. Did Bruce love the Joker? It felt safe to assume so. But if he  _said_  that, then there would be a bullet in Damian’s head.

_Polygraphs monitor blood pressure, heart rate, anything and everything that can show whether or not someone is lying…._  Bruce steadied himself.

“You’re right. I don’t love him.”

“Do you even  _like_  him?”

“No.”

“And you’re being truthful. Glad you decided to do the honorable thing.” She paused, falling silent, and tilted her head as if she was waiting for something. “The door’s unlocked,” she called. A moment later, there was the sound of a door creaking open and slamming shut.

“What was that?”

Harley grinned. “Well, while you were being honest with me, I’m afraid I’ve been lying through my teeth. Not only is Deryl’s gun empty-” She nodded at Deryl, who pulled the trigger to his gun. Nothing happened. “But the Joker’s been sitting by the door the whole time. And he’s heard every single word.”

Bruce stood up, reaching for his belt.

Harley pulled a pistol out of her coat and rose, rushing toward Damian. “This gun, however, is fully loaded. So you  _are_  at crossroads. Rush after the poor homicidal maniac, or take your son home?” She stepped back, dropping the gun. “Do we even need to  _wonder_  which one you’ll pick?”

Bruce stepped forward, picking up Damian, and walked outside.

“Don’t turn around,” Harley instructed. “I still have some insurance.”

Bruce didn’t look back, and carried Damian to the car. He pressed his comm. “Jason? You there?”

_“I’m here.”_

Bruce knew what he wanted to say:  _“Look, Jason. I’m really sorry for everything. I never wanted you to get pulled into this. Please forgive me.”_

Instead, he said: “I’m sending the Batmobile back, with Damian in it. Make sure he’s alright.”

“Sure thing.”

Bruce turned on the auto-drive in the Batmobile. “Home,” he instructed. The door snapped shut, and the Batmobile vanished.

He turned and ran down the street. What time was it? Probably after midnight. It was odd, chasing the Joker when he wasn’t laughing. It was definitely harder to find him.

Bruce was used to letting people leave. He’d always thought that the best course of action was to give them space, let them work things out for themselves, and then resolve things. But he was starting to realize that if you didn’t fix something, it would stay shattered.


	12. Signals

Bruce caught up with the Joker several blocks down. He was running.

"Joker!"

Joker spun around. "Get  _away_ from me!" he shouted, and sped up.

"No!"

_"Yes!_  Leave me alone!"

Bruce forced himself to go after. "Joke-"

He turned into an alleyway. Bruce skidded to a halt, and turned. The Joker was gone. He saw a shadow vanishing over the roof above him.

Bruce reached for his grappling hook, then decided against it. He jumped up, and pulled down the ladder to the fire escape above him, and climbed up it, before pulling himself up to the next level, and the one after that. Finally, he hoisted himself up onto the roof, and stood. The Joker was on the other side of the building, sitting and facing away from him.

Bruce crossed over, and saw down next to him. The Joker swung his legs out over the side of the building.

"Hey."

The Joker didn't say anything. Bruce frowned- he was crying. The Joker turned his head away.

"Can you do me a favor?"

"I'm not talking to you."

"Take off my mask."

The Joker harrumphed. "I'm not taking off your mask. It's cliche and romantic." His tone turned bitter, and he looked away, kicking his feet. "I hate romance."

"Then I'll take it off." Bruce reached up and pulled off his cowl. "Please look at me."  
"No. I hate you."

"Don't hate me." Bruce edged closer to him. The Joker yelped, like he'd been shocked, and moved away. Bruce pulled off his glove, and reached out his hand. "I need you to do something for me."

"I hate you," the Joker said sullenly, sounding heartbroken. "Please go away."

"Just take my pulse. Nothing romantic at all. Of course, I'd prefer it if you looked into my eyes, but you don't have too."

The Joker took Bruce's hand and pressed his fingers tightly against his wrist. He turned his head, met his eyes, and then jerked his gaze away.

Bruce took a deep breath. "My name is Harvey Dent. I'm a gangster, with a dual personality I call Two-Face. Was my pulse steady?"

"I dunno."

"Watch it this time. My name is Superman. I'm a complete  _asshole_  with stupid superpowers like doing  _everything_ a Batsuit does but if you wave a rock in my face, I turn into a normal being. And apparently I can't handle that, because I collapse onto the ground when _ever_  that happens, screaming in pain. And my greatest enemy is a bald man, who owns a lot of real estate. Oh, so scary. I don't even know why I wear a cape. I just  _do._  Probably because Batman does, and it looks  _great_  on him." Bruce smiled. "Well, was it steady?"

"Yeah." The Joker let go of his hand, and wiped his tears onto his sleeve.

"I know. I'm the world's greatest liar. I can fool anyone, any machine, any polygraph. But let's see how I do when I'm  _not_  trying to cover myself." He offered the Joker his hand again. He took it. "My name is Bruce Wayne. I'm Batman, and I do not love the Joker." He drew his hand back. "Well?"

"It… it spiked."

"See?"

The Joker paused. "It's still… scary. Hearing you say it. Watching you say that."

"I know. I'm sorry."

The Joker leaned over, hugging him. He buried his face in his shoulder. "Damn you."

Bruce put his arms around the Joker. He almost laughed.

The Joker pulled away and punched him. "I'm still mad at you."

"I know."

"Also, the signal just went up."

"Want to come with me?"

_"Really?"_

"Sure. But you can't attack the police."

The Joker squealed. "Let's go!"

In no time at all, Bruce had landed on the GCPD roof, holding the Joker tightly. Jim was leaning against the Batsignal, an unlit cigarette in his mouth. Bruce set the Joker down. "Commissioner, is something wrong?"

Jim Gordon glanced at the Joker, and lit his cigarette. "World's Greatest Detective," he muttered. "Yes, something's wrong. How  _did_  you know?"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing," he said sarcastically. "Nothing at  _all_."

"Jim-"

"I mean," he said, his voice raising. "It's not as if there's  _anything_  I need to know!"

Joker glanced at Batman.

"Jim-"

"It's not as if people I  _care about_  are  _constantly_ in danger! So tell me!" Jim shut off the Bat-signal, and didn't turn to face Bruce. "So, tell me,  _Batman._  How long has my daughter been Batgirl?"

"I-"

"And  _you!_ Did  _you_  know?" Jim demanded, shaking, pointing at the Joker. "When you came to my house and- and-"

"Oh, no!" The Joker said soothingly. "I'll just- I'll um-" He grabbed the door to the GCPD and dove inside.

_"Did he?"  
_

"No," Bruce said. "Commissioner-"

Jim spun around, and punched Bruce in the face. He stumbled backwards. "You might have thought to mention that," he snarled.  _"When I was at your house for Thanksgiving dinner!"_

Bruce fell silent.

"It's funny. I thought it might be you, back when the Batman first showed up. Well, I didn't. Sarah, though-" Gordon's voice cracked. "But all the evidence pointed  _away_ from you, and we gave up on that theory. And Bruce, what the  _hell_  are you doing gallivanting around with  _him_?!"

As if he'd been cued, the Joker stuck his head out of the doorway. "Excuse me. Hate to interrupt this little heart-to-heart, but you aren't answering your com, and I just got a message from Dickybird." He turned to Gordon. "Your daughter's awake."

Jim swore and spun around, heading inside.

"I can give you a ride," Bruce offered.

"I can drive just fine." He slammed the door shut.

"By the way," the Joker called. "I never slept underneath your bed!"

Bruce stared at him.

"What?"

"Nothing," Joker said. "Just something I made up this one time that I think  _really_ freaked him out."

"I can see how it might. What did Quinn do to Batgirl?"

"Oh." The Joker rocked back in forth on his heels, and bit his lip. "Well, she, uh… she had a saw. And she used it on her legs."

_"What?"_

They stopped by the hospital on the way home. Barbara was going to be fine. She wasn't ever going to be able to walk again, but she was going to live. That was what counted. Tim and Dick were both fine.

Back at the Manor, Bruce set up a guest room for the Joker, and headed down into the Cave.

"Damian? Jason?"

Jason rushed over to Bruce. Bruce hugged him.

"I'm sorry," he said. "For everything."

"Me too. For everything."

"I was a douche."

"But I was worse."

"I'm not even going to deny it. It's true. You're an asshole."

Bruce chuckled, and pulled away. "How's Damian?"

"He's fine. Asleep upstairs." Jason swallowed. "The Joker-"

"Also asleep upstairs."

Jason nodded, looking pained. "Fine. Whatever you want. It's your house."

"Jason-"

"No, I don't mind. Really. But if he tries to kill me again-"

"If that happens," Bruce said, "We are  _so_  breaking up."

Jason's mouth twitched up. "Ew. You're  _together._  That's gross. I hate you."

"Jason," Bruce said. "You really are like a son to me."

"You're like my annoying dad who's always dating random chicks off the street."

"Hey. Let's give the billionaire some class."

"You also grab random  _kids_  from the street. That's freaky." Jason laughed. "Oh, and Catwoman and Ivy are up there, too. Selina called the police, but they ended up  _dueling_  a bunch of Quinn's goons. I'm pretty sure they beat them, because most of them got arrested. Some cops went down into the tunnels, but I bumped into them and told them everything was cool. Is Babs okay?"

"She'll live. She won't be able to walk again, though."

"What happened to her?"

Bruce sucked in a breath. "The way I understand it, her legs… got sawed off."

"I'm going to kill Quinn." Jason closed his eyes. "I can't believe- I trusted her. I didn't think she was capable of-"

"It's alright."

"I think- I might stay in Gotham. For awhile longer"

"Whatever you want to do," Bruce headed for the staircase. "It's your life, Jason. And you're lucky to have it."

"Yeah." Jason sat down. "Guess I am. Even if I had to get dumped in a Lazarus Pit."

"I'm going to head upstairs now," Bruce said. "The green guest room is empty, if you want to hang around."

Jason nodded, and Bruce headed out of the Cave. He changed out of his clothes, and collapsed into bed.

Quinn was still out there.

Jim was furious with him.

Barbara was in the hospital.

He was probably going to get suspended from the Justice League.

There might be a bug in the Cave.

Alfred was still missing.

_Tomorrow,_  he thought.  _Just this once_.

And Bruce Wayne slept.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left. Is anyone else excited? Maybe I'll hold onto it for a week, just to make y'all suffer. No. I think I'll have to post it ASAP. I already have it written and everything. Love you guys! -Harles


	13. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To You Wonderful People:
> 
> This really does feel like the end of an era. I’ve put so much heart into this story, and now it’s over.
> 
> Don’t worry, though. I’m working on a sequel, mid-quel, prequel(s?) and several one-shots to accompany it, because boy howdy, there is so much I haven’t written here that happened over the course of Tainted Love, and so much that happened next. But it could be awhile.
> 
> I feel like you all deserve to know the playlist of songs I listened to endlessly while writing this: Just One Yesterday (Fall Out Boy), Poison (Alice Cooper), This Maniac’s In Love With You (Alice Cooper), Drown in You (Daughtry), Losing You (The Boxer Rebellion), Finale Ultimo (Little Shop of Horrors), Somewhere That’s Green and Somewhere That’s Green Reprise (Little Shop of Horrors), Suddenly Seymour (Little Shop of Horrors), Please Don’t Leave Me (P!nk), Funhouse (P!nk), The Cell Block Tango (Chicago), Losing Grip (Avril Lavigne), Kill My Boyfriend (Natalia Kills), Where Did Our Love Go (Soft Cell) and, last but certainly not least, Tainted Love by Soft Cell.
> 
> There’s still much to happen. I’ll probably be posting one of my prequel/one-shots soon, and will begin work on the sequel soon. Oh, and I’m still playing around with title ideas for these things, so message me anytime to be a part of the planning! Or just PM me about anything! My gratitude at the end of the chapter. For now, read on.

When Bruce was younger, his father had told him stories about the Manor. The tapestries were from Japan. The paintings, France. The suit of armor in the hallway was a thing of legend, supposedly worn by Jason when he led the Argonauts. That was why he gave it to a museum when he was four, despite Bruce’s protests. The knocker at Wayne Manor was iron, built specifically to echo throughout the gigantic house, so that you could hear someone outside up on the third floor and, if you had good hearing, all the way up in the master bedroom. And Bruce had very good hearing.

He opened his eyes instantly, and sat up, knocking down the blankets. Bruce glanced over next to him, and saw the the Joker had crawled into bed with him at some point. He was curled in a ball, with not nearly enough blankets. Bruce stood up and placed the comforter over him, then the quilt. He sat down, and ran his fingers through his hair.

The Joker cracked open an eye. “What time is it?”

“Four in the morning.”

 _“Mmmm.”_ The Joker snuggled under the covers.

Bruce smiled at him. He really did look…  _amazing_  without that murderous gleam in his eyes, or that manic smile. He went to lay back down.

Then someone knocked again.

Bruce frowned and pulled on his robe. The Joker propped himself up.

“Is everything okay?”

“Fine. Someone’s at the door.”

“At this hour?”

“Apparently.”

“Okay. Don’t die.”

Bruce nodded, and crossed over to kiss the Joker’s forehead before pulling on his slippers, and heading downstairs. He heard more knocking, and a distant voice as he approached the door.

“Hello? Is anyone up? Master Bruce?”

Bruce broke into a grin and ran the rest of the way, and pulled the door open. Alfred was leaning against the doorframe.

_“Alfred!”_

Alfred smiled weakly. “Hello, Master Bruce.”

Then he collapsed.

Bruce helped him up, and into the kitchen. Once Alfred was sat at the table, he opened the door to the fridge.

“There’s no need to cook for me,” Alfred said, standing up. “I’m perfectly capable of-”

“Sit back down. You  _clearly_ deserve a bit of pampering.”

Alfred fell back into his seat. “If you insist.”

Bruce pulled out some leftover turkey. “Do you want any pie?”

“Not the chocolate. I’ve heard that it might be… unsatisfactory.”

“And where did you hear that?”

Alfred sighed, hid his face.

“Alfred, where were you? What happened?”

“I was kidnapped, sir. And put through a large amount of suffering. But I’m here now.”

“Was it Harley?”

Alfred frowned. “Yes.”

Bruce pulled the chocolate pie out of the fridge, and scraped it out into the trash. “Pumpkin?”

“That sounds delightful.”

Bruce served him a slice of each pie, excepting the chocolate, and then plated up some turkey and stuffing, with potatoes.

There were footsteps on the stairs, and Tim stuck his head in.  _“Alfred!”_  he shouted, running over to hug him.

 _“Oof.”_  Alfred laughed. “Good to see you, Master Timothy.”

Damian appeared. “Pennyworth!” He rushed over, then skidded to a halt. “Hello.”

“Lovely seeing you, Master Damian.”

Damian slouched against the cabinet. “I needed your help with my school project. Seems convenient that you disappeared  _right_  when I was going to work on it.”

“I’m terribly sorry. Tomorrow?”

“Fine.” Damian hesitated, then dove over to hug him as well. “I’m glad you aren’t dead!”

“Yes, I’m happy about that as well.”

Dick and Jason appeared next.

“Babs and I are dating again!” Dick gushed.

“Really? That’s wonderful news!”

Jason glared at Dick and muttered something.

“Jase’s sore because he doesn’t have me all to himself.”

“That’s not why I’m sore,” Jason muttered, then brightened. “I was leaving, but now I’m back.”

“You always come back.”

“Yeah! You guys couldn’t get rid of me even when I  _died._ ”

Three more heads appeared in the doorway.

“Alfred!”

“Pennyworth!”

“Jeeves!”

Selina, Ivy, and the Joker joined the crowd in the kitchen.

“He made dinner,” Ivy said, pointing at Dick. “He isn’t as good a chef as you.”

“Hey!”

“Your shower mask is amazing!” Joker said. “We’re going to sell them and make a fortune!”

“That’s stupid,” Jason said. “Who would buy a shower mask?”

“Faceless people! And people who don’t like taking their makeup off!” Joker squinted. “Like you!”

Jason spat out his drink. “What-”

Dick laughed. “Well,  _that_  explains the way your eyes stand out!”

“My eyes don’t  _stand out_!” Jason shrieked.

Damian splashed a cup of water in Jason’s face. “It must be really good, I can’t even see it running!”

_“You son of a b-”_

“Bruce!” Damian interjected, cackling. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to do that for  _so_  long!”

“Hey!” Tim set the cup of water he'd been filling up down. “I was going to splash him!”

“You snooze, you lose!”

_“I haven’t lost yet, you-”_

Several moments later, Jason, Tim, and Damian were chasing each other around the dining room, threatening each other quite loudly.

_“I’m going to kill you both!”_

_“You think you can get away with anything just cause you’re his son-”  
_

_“You’re just jealous that I’m his son!”_

Tim grabbed Damian’s arm and punched him. “And you cheated on King of the Skies!”

Damian kicked him. “It’s not cheating if I’m better than you!”

Jason tackled them both.

"I'm better than both of you!" Damian shouted.

"At what?"

"Everything! You guys are in the  _failure_ closet!” Damian paused. “Except for you, Grayson. You’re acceptable.”

“... Thank you?” Dick sighed and leaned against the counter, watching the fight unfold in front of him. “It’s nice to be mature-”

Tim’s elbow hit him in the chin.  _“I am going to make you pay for that!”_

“Can you try to kill each other in the hallway?” Bruce asked loudly.

 _“Be quiet!”_  Selina shouted.

“I know who all of you are!” Ivy screamed.

Damian, Tim, Jason, and Dick all froze.

Ivy shrugged. “It shut them up.”

The Joker buckled over, laughing.

Ivy pointed at them all one by one. “Yes, it’s  _true,_  I know that you’re Batman, Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and Robin. And Selina’s Catwoman.”

Selina frowned. “You… already knew that…”

“So,” Ivy leaned back in her chair. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t tell the whole wide world.”

“Hang on,” Dick said. “Does this mean you know Babs is Batgirl? The one you’re on the Birds of Prey with?”

“This doesn’t involve the Birds, or Batgirl. This is about giving me a reason not the bring the whole city down on you.”

Jason pulled out a gun and pointed it at Ivy. “I can shoot her.”

Tim stared at him. “Where did you get that?”

“I always have a gun.  _This_  one’s my baby.”

“Your… baby?”

Damian squinted. “Do you  _sleep_  with that?”

“Don’t make me point this at you.”

“Fine, whatever. The gun’s your baby.”

“Who’s the mom?” Tim whispered.

“Still waiting,” Ivy said.

Bruce sighed and went to a drawer. He pulled out a checkbook.

Selina tilted her head. “Do you just keep those everywhere?”

“I never know when I might need one.”

 _“Rich men,”_  the Joker whispered. “I  _love_  them.”

Bruce sat down. “Anyone got a pen?”

Tim handed him one.

“It’s four in the morning,” Selina said. “Is no one going to ask where this stuff is coming from?”

“Too tired,” the Joker shrugged.

“Two million dollars,” Bruce said. “Who should I make it out to?”

“I don’t want money.”

“You misunderstood. I meant, which organization should I make it out to? This is going to help save the rainforests in the country of your choice. And Wayne Enterprises is going to continue to invest in these organizations, and will start one of it’s own dedicated to helping plant life.”

Ivy raised an eyebrow.

“I’m also going to get you a personal hair stylist.”

“Deal. Make it out to the Rain Saviors.”

Bruce signed the check. “I’ll mail it in the morning.”

“It is the morning.”

“I’ll mail it later.”

“Make sure it’s today.”

“I will.” Bruce stood back up, and walked over to the coffee pot. “I need caffeine.”

The Joker narrowed his eyes. “So we aren’t going back to bed?” Damian mimed puking, and Jason joined in.

“You have a bed of your own.”

“But your bed’s comfier!”

“I-”

Bruce buckled over, feeling a sharp pain in his head.  _“Crap!”_

The Joker’s eyes widened. “Are you-”

“I’m fine.” Bruce sat back down. “J’onn, now is  _not_  a good time.”

**_‘You’re awake, Bruce. That makes it a good time.’_ **

“I know I’m awake! And I’m  _hoping_  to get some sleep!”

 _“Who is he talking_  to?” the Joker hissed.

“Martian Manhunter,” Tim said. “The green guy on the Justice League.”

“Ah.” The Joker nodded solemnly. “Which one?”

**_‘I’ve already contacted everyone else. We’ve been waiting for you to wake up.’_ **

“What? I’m  _late_? What’s going on?”

**_‘Brainiac, in Metropolis. Clark’s been keeping him busy most of the day, since he got back from your place. He’s had  some help from Diana. The rest of us are figuring out our next step.’_ **

“Obviously to take Brainiac  _down_.”

**_‘Yes, but that takes planning.’_ **

“I know. I’m on my way.”

**_‘See you then.’_ **

Bruce glanced over at Selina. “Official babysitter. You’re on.”

“How much?”

“Hundred bucks an hour.”

“Sweet!”

“I want everyone who’s ever worn a bird-themed costume asleep until seven.”

“Done and done.”

“Joker, you have to make sure Alfred doesn’t attempt to help her at  _all_. He is going to finish his meal and go rest. Ivy, I hope you don’t mind helping him.”

“Not in the least bit.”

“Good.” Bruce filled up his coffee, and headed for the door. “See you all soon. J’onn, I’ll be there in ten.” He paused, and looked back at the kitchen.

**_‘They’ll be fine.’_ **

“How can you tell?”

**_‘I can see you trust the people back there.’_ **

“Not very reassuring, but okay.” Bruce closed the door behind him.

 _“I don’t want to go to sleep!”_  Damian wailed.

 _“I’m nineteen!”_ Jason yelled.  _“I don’t need a babysitter!”_

 _“And I’m twenty one,”_  Dick said.  _“I’m a legal adult.”_

The Joker’s voice cut in.  _“Sit down, Jeeves. Kitty litter’s got this one. Now, eat your dinner… breakfast. Eat you dinfast.”_

 _“Ex_ cuse _me? Did you just call me_ litter _?”_

Bruce smiled. Having a family was difficult, but in the end, it was worth it.

It was nice, trusting people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In conclusion: Thank you guys so much for the reviews, the readings, the follows and favs, the fanart, the everything really. Special shout-outs to Dyn-in-red (or are you in purple now?), inadequatelyawesome, and my anonymous fellow fan. And my fantastic Mis, who I’ve been reading the story aloud to in PE because of her busy schedule. Thank you, all of you, even you guys who I didn’t name. Thank you.
> 
> See you soon, Harles.


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